A Truly Horrible Life
by Lone Canadian
Summary: The boy hid behind a mask ever since the divorce of his parents five years ago. Alfred felt unloved and it was hard for him to love at all, but can a British foriegn exchange student help him repair the cracked shards of his heart? UKUS, human names used. Rating may change for later chapters.
1. Flashbacks and Some Fresh Air

His life hadn't been as easy as everyone seemed to think.

The parade of pride and confidence was a mask covering his insecurities and true feelings. He forced himself to watch the stream splashing in front of him as he stared at his moving reflection. Even though he was sitting in the grass, the reflection moved to the ways of the water, leaving him behind to live on its own. Alfred sighed and shifted his eyes to what looked like the end of the river but was really just the farthest his eyes could see of the running water that stretched on for miles. What would it be like to follow his reflection? To see the world from shapeless eyes and form to the will of others? Wait, he already did that.

It was an understatement to say that he _liked _to please everyone. In truth, it scared the hell out of him if someone was even the least dissatisfied with himself. He couldn't handle that, let alone hatred and frustration. Whenever he saw an angry face he just wanted to scream at the person "GET OVER IT! Leave me alone! Am I not enough for you?" Thinking back on his feelings for the past five years, Alfred buried his face into his arms that were resting on his raised knees. He held back every tear, not letting himself cry over his feelings.

He hadn't always been this way. It was hard to remember himself as a child but he must have had happy times. Right? This must have all started when the divorce happened.

Alfred's eyes grew tighter as his memories overtook him against his will. He saw himself coming back from a normal day at pioneer camp during the summer of five years ago and being told his father just needed a little break, a vacation. He remembered how his father had called him that same week telling him it's not his fault, he was coming back soon! Really! His mind skipped to a later time, when his mom was sitting in the kitchen crying.

"What's wrong mom?"

"I-I don't want him to take you away. He can't have you!"

Alfred's childish face grew worried and confused. "Don't worry mom! I'll just get a rope and if he tries to take me, I'll pull myself back to you!" He smiled at his clever idea, anything to make his mother happy again. Luckily, she smiled back.

"Yeah,"

Alfred's mind ran onto another memory, he couldn't tell if this one had happened before the last one or not. He remembered his father driving him for miles, all the way to the beach and to a place filled with cheap apartments. This was his father's first "house". His bedroom was near the front door of the tiny and cramped space. He would spend the whole weekend every other week here, bored out of his mind, playing with tennis balls on the floors, and doing nothing but watching TV in the depressing apartment with faded white walls and hardwood floors.

There were many fights that had broken out between the two and his other siblings. He could recall one very dark incident.

He couldn't remember how it had started, but his oldest brother managed to get in a fight with his father. The fight grew so bad that his brother was kicked out of the "house" and ended up walking all the way to the nearest Publix in the dark of the night. Midnight, most likely. Alfred and his second oldest brother and younger brother got into their father's truck and tailed the eldest of the four children. Alfred had been only around nine or ten at the time which made his oldest brother about his age now, fourteen. His youngest brother was about four. Alfred's father called his mom and told her to come get the boy from Publix's parking lot. All he could remember from the conversation was him saying "If you're drunk then don't come and get him!" which had scared Alfred to death, thinking his mom was going to die.

Years later he found out that his mom actually wasn't drunk and the only reason his father had said that was to make the three brothers think that she drank. It was an awful memory. For Christmas, they had gotten a pitiful, two-foot tree and decorated it with ornaments from a plastic tin bought at Target. He hated remembering that awful apartment and even when his father finally did get a REAL house, it was still bad.

The house was tiny and didn't even have enough space for the five of them. It ended up being that his oldest brother barely even came to visit their father and the youngest had to sleep in their father's room. The second oldest had his own room because at that time, he had already started living with their father. Alfred couldn't bear to let himself remember the fights in court over custody and his mom sobbing when she lost him to his father. And what a stupid move it was! For in the present, his second oldest brother had been drinking, smoking, and doing drugs. His grades dropped from A's to F's. It was a miracle he had graduated high school now.

Alfred had had a "room" too, in that house. It was so small. The walls a depressing, deep purple, his bed a size too small for him, the sheets coming off constantly, the TV had no channels he liked since Disney and Nickelodeon were now crap, and the worst part. He didn't have a DOOR. No! He had a CURTAIN. People didn't even knock on the side of the wall before coming in! Just imagine being a teenage boy trying to get dressed with a curtain that was close enough to being transparent as the glass on the windows! The trash would be left in his room; people would barge in with laundry because his room held the door to the backyard and the garage with the washer and dryer! His brother had passed his room multiple times one night to get to the backyard, each time coming back in smelling like smoke and thinking Alfred had been asleep.

Coming back to the present, Alfred picked his head up and looked to the sky to see a shade of blue similar to the color of his damp eyes that refused to shed tears but watered just the same.

His head now hurt from all of the horrible flashbacks from the past five years, yet had barely even begun to scrape at the surface of his depression and horrid memories.

Thankfully now, his father had finally let him not stay over at his house anymore. Alfred had put up quite a good fight. He couldn't tell if he hated or just extremely disliked his father. It was a sad thing to be grateful for, but Alfred couldn't help but fill with glee when he realized he had only seen his fathr a few times in the past few months. He had even gone for three months at time without having contact with his father except for a measly text message from the man and a small reply from himself.

Alfred got up from the grass and started walking back to his house, wanting to get away from the sadness that trapped him in whenever he remembered about the divorce. He hated so many things about himself and his life, and things could only get worse sometimes. Alfred's hand stretched out and grasped the handle to the door of his home.

Opening it, he was forever grateful to see that his father was not there.

**I don't have anything to say except sorry for so many flashbacks and depressing things. I have so much to explain with this story and to get it started, I had to explain at least a little bit. I usually hate stories where Alfred isn't actually the USA but random things like werewolves and demons but I had to do this. I don't know if this was any good but it will only get better. If this isn't good, I won't continue. I'm just trying to express my life through Alfred. Sorry guys. I also am not rereading and editing this because it's too depressing for me to read right now so please forgive any typos and misspellings. Thanks.**


	2. The British Are Coming!

Argh, stupid summer homework. This is summer! Why do they give us homework during the summer?

Alfred sat on his queen sized bed complete with a _Captain America_ comforter, some _Superman _pillows (including one _SpongeBob _and a _Domo _pillow), and a huge blanket showing all of the United States and each state's name and capitol. Right now, the edge of Alaska was resting on his waist and the tip of Florida was covering his leg. Alfred was into many things normal teenage boys were but he also had an obsession over history, especially the history of the US. His favorite thing to learn about had to have been the American Revolution...you know, if he had to pick _just one_.

The American set down his pencil on top of his binder, worksheets, and his assigned book required for students going into English 2 Honors next year, _A Separate Peace_. Not only was Alfred into history, but he also was very intelligent. He was going into an advanced class for 10th graders when he was only a 9th grader after this summer. Alfred didn't like to shove his advanced classes in people's faces but he certainly took pride in the classes he took. Which is probably why he could be found doing his summer work on a beautiful summer day.

He was about to start the plot summary for chapter seven when a knock came on his door. He always kept his door locked so he grudgingly untangled himself from America and unlocked his door.

"What?"

It was his mom. "Just wanted to know if you're going with your dad or not tonight. It's Wednesday and you know he has you every other weekend and on Wednesday nights."

"Not anymore."

"Can't you send him a simple text? Or call him?"

Alfred inwardly shuddered at the thought of calling someone other than his best friend Gilbert on his cell. He absolutely _loathed _calling people. A text was good enough! "Fine, I'll text him!"

His mom looked at him with an almost worrying look before he shut and locked the door, wrapping himself in the warmth of the USA once again. His mom really hated his father but she made sure that Alfred still kept in touch with him for a 'healthy relationship'. What was the point? He took the blanket and touched Michigan to his forehead, hoping the wintery state would help him calm down like a cool wash cloth during a fever.

The boy silently picked up his book again but couldn't concentrate now. The words seemed to blend together as his mind crept back to tonight over and over and over again. The loud rattling of his window certainly didn't help either. Sighing, Alfred went to the glass to see if he could close it more tightly. He was busy jamming the edge of the window to the windowsill when he momentarily lifted his eye to see the flowing grass and tall trees outside. He was about to look back down at the stubborn window again when his eye caught a flash of unusual color. There was a boy, just a little shorter than him with girls-go-crazy-over-this-shade-of-blonde hair. He reminded him of Tom Felton, the British actor in the Harry Potter series but the kid seemed to be only Alfred's age so Tom Felton definitely was not lurking outside of his house...sadly.

The kid turned and looked up towards Alfred's window. He could now see his lime green eyes and soft face. His black Gorillaz T-shirt hung loosely on him as if he honestly didn't care if it fit him or not. The jeans he wore weren't too tight but also not too big and his converse didn't show any specks of dirt at all. Alfred had been staring for quite some time before he became aware of what he was doing and blushed furiously at his unusual stupidity. At least, he didn't think he was usually stupid. The boy two stories below smirked up at him and Alfred glared back, still lightly red. His first impression just went from clean-cut and nice to a smirk-y bastard that believed he was almighty. With a final tug, the American slammed his window shut and laughed at the boy's surprised reaction below.

Through all of this, Alfred had failed to notice the luggage resting on the ground near the boy...nor the fact that his mom was going out to greet him.

Xxxxxxx

Alfred had just finished the 13th worksheet when he felt the thirst boiling in his throat. Not only that, but he was craving some of his special cans of Dr. Pepper his mom bought for him and a small bag of Doritos. Well, a genius gotta eat sometime!

Alaska was flipped over to the south and America was crammed into a ball while Alfred jumped out of his bed and unlocked his door. He was practically running down the stairs. He got all the way to the last step and looked up, about to pass the front door, to see the bastard from outside smiling at him, his 'filthy' converse infecting the rugs of his sacred home. Alfred growled at the kid, his mom coming over and resting a hand on his shoulder saying, "This is Arthur Kirkland, Alfred. Arthur, meet Alfred Jones, one of my four sons." Alfred could tell his mom was cringing on the inside, not just from having no precious daughters, but also at the mention of the son who betrayed her and left her for his father. "The other three are Ivan, the youngest at 13, Francis, the second oldest who...lives with their dad, and Matthew, the oldest at 16."

Arthur looked at Alfred and asked "and how old is Alfred?" Woah, the dude had a British accent.

"He's 14, like you! I hope you two get along because Alfred, Athur will be sharing your room with you."

"WHAT? Where the heck is he supposed to sleep?"

"In your bed of course."

"My bed? Then where do _I _sleep?"

"In your bed too, of course! You two can share it."

Alfred blushed at the thought of having to share a bed with this stranger but Arthur looked expressionless. "I'm sure you're hungry Arthur. Why don't you go with Alfred and get something to eat and you two can take your bags upstairs afterwards?"

"Yes, that seems like a brilliant idea! Thank you." Arthur replied with that stupid British accent of his. Alfred's mom smiled and left the two to go upstairs and finish her favorite show on Food Network. "Well...I guess come with me to the kitchen then. By the way, why are you here? And who are you? My mom apparently forgot that part." Alfred said unpleased.

"I'm Arthur, a foreign exchange student from England. Your mum signed up for the program and now I get to stay with you until the end of...what do you  
Americans call it? Ah, 9th grade." Arthur recited what he had read in a book. The two countries had different grading systems so he had done his best to memorize the differences. "I'll be going to your school with you, too."

"YOU'RE STAYING HERE A WHOLE YEAR? Fmhaxfabbkdjbcjjgdnslashicga!" Alfred was too upset for words. Why the hell had his mom not told him? Had not ASKED him?

"Um, yes. I am. Now about that food you promised, would you have any scones by chance?"

"Uh...no, dude. We got chips."

"I love potatoes!"

"...sure."

Alfred led Arthur to the kitchen and started to pick through the mini bags of chips for his favorite Doritos. He looked up at the Brit to see a puzzled face. "What's the matter? American chips too low for you?" Alfred was annoyed at the thought of American made products being to lowly for the British. If they could win a whole war with barely even an army, their chips were damn good too.

"I thought you said that you had chips, not crisps."

"Dude, what the hell are crisps? These are chips!"

Arthur looked to Alfred in annoyance. He certainly knew the difference between chips and crisps when he suddenly realized their mistake. "Oh, that's right. In America, crisps are called chips and chips are called fries. How strange." Arthur said while taking a bag of original Lays. Alfred gave him a look but continued onto the fridge. He took out a can of delicious Dr. Pepper and noticed the Brit staring at the can and licking his lips. "What, you want one? Well these are mine!" Alfred hugged the can to his chest but Arthur put on a smug expression.

"Hm, I was under the impression that your mum wanted me to have a nice stay here. I'm sure she would want me to have the soda I desire which you are holding in your hands." The two had a staring contest then, telepathically knowing that whoever won got the soda as a prize. Not only that, but it also symbolized the beginning of Arthur invading his life if he lost! The American strained his eyes. Tears were starting to build when he finally blinked with sweet yet horrid relief. "Hmph," Arthur smirked and took the can from Alfred's hands. Alfred glared but reached in for another can. He had a feeling the Brit was going to get whatever he wanted, whether he liked it or not and the Brit certainly intended to weasel as much as could out of the stupid American as possible.

Groaning, Alfred grabbed a suitcase and trudged up to his room, Arthur trailing behind him. They reached the door to his room in a matter of seconds, Alfred's Harry Potter poster clearly visible on the outside of his door. He turned the knob and let the Brit inside who surveyed his room with interest, taking in the light green walls, to the hardwood floors, and of course, his bed with the US map blanket.

Arthur set down his bags, pushed the books to the far left of the bed, and settled down on the right side, ready to sleep. "I'm tired so I'm sleeping now and will put my stuff away later." Alfred was pissed that Arthur felt like he could do whatever he pleased. He even took the Alfred's favorite side of the bed! He always slept there! Whatever, arguing with a sleeping, annoying, dirty, British Bastard was pointless. He lifted himself onto the _left _side of the bed and pulled enough on the US blanket so that there was enough to cover his body, the rest laid on Arthur who was already sleeping.

He went back to his summer homework, mumbling about how stupid life was and was unaware of the fact that the Brit was actually still awake but trying to go to sleep. His mind was racing about what his life in America would be like for the next year and the fact that he had to share a room with a rather...er...cute American boy. Arthur rested his head more on the pillow and blushed as he realized that he could smell the American's scent. He must have taken the side that Alfred usually slept on so his scent was already spread on the sheets, pillows, and blanket. Arthur closed his eyes, giving into the hands of sweet, unconscious dreams while still smelling fresh air and candy bars. He could get used to this.

**Sorry for age confusion! I didn't want to have to make Russia 9, France um...18 I think lol, and Canada 20. So I didn't base their ages off of my brothers. Yay for Alfred X Arthur cuteness! This is probably gonna end up UkUs instead of UsUk because I kind of accidently made Arthur more willing in this than Alfred without knowing it. Sorry! ^^' but hopefully this chapter was better and happier. I had a sort of sad moment today but got over it and wrote a happy chapter instead for you all. I liked this idea SO much better than having Arthur move in next door, you know? Oh, and the countries chosen aren't based off of the personalities of my brothers. If they were, the youngest would be Italy, second oldest would be...maybe France (don't know because I never see him), and the oldest would be a mix of Russia and Japan lol. I'm a mix of Canada, America, and England but mostly England I guess xD**


	3. Really? Captain America underwear?

How awful...

Alfred's brother was being escorted into his father's small car for tonight. It was Wednesday so his father had him for dinner...and Alfred if he pleased. But Alfred wasn't climbing into the car with Ivan; he was sitting on the chair close to the window and watching the scene from a safe place above.

The car left as quickly as it had come and Alfred let out a sigh of relief and sadness. It was depressing to have shoved his father out of his life as much as possible yet the courts still forced Ivan to see him and Ivan had become so brainwashed by the man...he even questioned his own mother. At this rate, Alfred could practically see his little brother moving out and into their father's house just like Francis.

He had gone back to whatever number worksheet he was on when he heard a stir on the bed and saw the Brit sit up under the West side of America. It was pretty ironic to see him with that blanket considering he was British and probably didn't give a damn about the country he would be living in for the next year. Alfred started to write on his papers again, listening to the thuds of Arthur's feet as he groggily got out of his bed and slugged over to his bags. That's when he heard a gasp.

Arthur was completely snapped out of his slumber now. "W-where are my clothes? I packed them, I swear!" Arthur was looking around frantically now for the clothes he had brought with him to this new country when Alfred stated without even glancing in his direction, "I put them away for you."

"You put...them away...for me? Where did you put them?" Arthur asked skeptically.

"In the drawers. We each get half of every drawer now so don't go hogging a whole dresser to yourself!"

Arthur stumbled over to the dresser indicated and pulled out the second drawer, exposing both his and Alfred's underwear. The Brit couldn't help but blush. "You...y-you touched my underwear?"

Alfred leaned into the palm of his hand, shielding his giggling face and trying not to laugh. His shoulders betrayed him as they trembled from silent laughter. Arthur's face grew hot and defensive. He picked up Alfred's Captain America tighty whities and held them up for the whole world to see.

"Oh...whose are these?"

Alfred looked up through his silent laughter and froze, heat running to his face. "Hey! Put those back!"

"Why? I just wanted to know whose these were." Arthur teased.

Alfred was blushing all over his body. "Th-there mine, dammit!"

"You certainly have weird taste then." –Arthur smirked- "I'm surprised these fit you! They're so _small_. Are you really that tiny?"

Arthur looked smug and Alfred would have none of that! "M-my cock is not tiny! You're just not looking at those right! My underwear is huge! Big enough to fit a whole mountain! Ha!" Alfred was proud of his clever retort.

Arthur's amused smile wiped the pride off of the American's face. "Really? Well then, why don't you show me?"

"Fine!" Alfred jumped from his seat, pencils, books, and papers spilling all over the floor. Grabbing the underwear, he quickly turned and shoved off his jeans and boxers. Arthur had a good view of his ass now which just came as an added bonus. He hadn't realized what he was challenging the American to do and Americans being as stupid as they are, he knew Alfred would not have even thought about the show he was giving the Brit. Alfred slipped on his underwear and faced Arthur in all his glory.

"Hahaha! See? I- wait, why are you...? Wait, don't!" It was too late. Before Alfred could turn away or even cover his lower half with his hands, Arthur had taken out his camera and snapped a picture of the American in his Captain America tighty whities. Alfred's face was visible as well as the underwear he was wearing.

"Perfect. Would you like one as a souvenir?"

"Delete that right now, you bastard!"

"Hahaha! No way! This can be used as sweet blackmail and also as payback for anything you do to me! I have this against you the whole year! Just imagine you on your first day of high school seeing a life sized picture of you in your underwear! Priceless! Now you have to do whatever I say!"

The American was cornered. It was mortifying to even think about that possibility. He reached for the camera but the Brit shoved his hand to the American's face so Alfred couldn't get any closer. Arthur was full-on smirking now.

"What, you want it? Then strip."

"...huh?"

"Would you rather me see your bare ass or have this picture against you for a whole year, basically meaning that you have to do whatever I say?"

Alfred was shocked at what Arthur was saying. How did he even get into this situation? Wait a second...hadn't he done something _nice _for Arthur? He must really like his privacy then.

"I...please just delete the picture. I was only trying to do something nice."

"But you laughed at me! I am _not _someone to be messed with. Which is why if I have this to hold against you, you'll treat me as you would want to be treated. I may not be someone of your own country but I deserve respect!"

"I'm supposed to respect someone holding a camera with a picture of me in my underwear on it?"

"Rrr...you know what I mean! Fine!" Arthur faced the camera towards Alfred, showing him how he pressed the delete button and how his picture evaporated from existence. Arthur didn't know why but he had wished the American had accepted the offer of taking off his clothes. He wished he could have at least kept the picture. The thought seemed to thrill him and he blushed for reasons unknown to Alfred who had started to pull up his jeans again.

What was this feeling? Alfred turned towards Arthur, whose heart had started to drum rhythmically in his chest, seeming to be playing one of his favorite love songs he had on his iPod. Alfred dropped back into his chair and picked up his work to resume his studying session while Arthur lunged his hand into one of his bags in search of his iPod. When he finally found it, he shoved the ear buds into his ears and located the song he was so desperately wanting to hear right then.

His head flipped so as to see the boy sitting across from him in the sunlight that was beating down on him like it was trying desperately to win a battle...and the American had won. Alfred was wearing a blue t-shirt and black jeans that made the vibrant blue seem almost neon against the dark color. The sun was creating nice layers of shade over the wrinkles tucked in the fabric and the indents of his chest which was very muscular even with his shirt on. The blue looked magnificent on him...yet filled Arthur with sadness. It made him feel like he had lost something he had held dear to his heart for almost a century, maybe more. He felt like he had fought a losing battle, just like the sun on the American's face.

The song started to play and as he stared at Alfred, he realized how closely the song resembled an American's point of view during the Revolutionary war...and he was the British Empire.

_I don't remember the moment I tried to forget  
I lost myself, is it better not said  
Now I'm closer to the edge_

It was a thousand to one and a million to two  
Time to go down in flames and I'm taking you  
Closer to the edge

No I'm not saying I'm sorry  
One day maybe we'll meet again  
No I'm not saying I'm sorry  
One day maybe we'll meet again  
No, no, no, no

Arthur frantically played the next song so as not to have to listen to something so depressing sounding at the moment. _Closer to the Edge _was cut off and a new song started to burst to life in his ears.

_For those days we felt like a mistake,  
Those times when loves what you hate,  
Somehow,  
We keep marching on.  
_

_For those nights when I couldn't be there,  
I've made it harder to know that you know,  
That somehow,  
We'll keep moving on._

There's so many wars we fought,  
There's so many things were not,  
But with what we have,  
I promise you that,  
We're marching on,  
We're marching on,  
We're marching on  


Arthur ripped the ear buds from his ears and _Marchin On _was no more. He didn't want to keep being reminded of the war between the two countries. It happened so long ago and really had nothing to do with the two boys, but when he looked at Alfred's soft, golden face, he felt like he actually had fought in the war and lost with his country. But he didn't lose America...he lost Alfred.

Arthur placed his iPod back into his bag and pulled out instead a book. He forced his mind to wander the pages and the story being told but he could only think of _his_ story, his life. Was it really so wrong to have feelings for this guy...or was his heart just fooling himself?

**Songs: Closer to the Edge by 30 Seconds to Mars and Marchin On by OneRepublic. I kept laughing while writing the embarrassing scene between Arthur and Alfred in this. It was too much xD lol! The ending of this chapter is kinda sad but I wanted to include some sort of country connection here and I have so many songs that remind me of UsUk and UkUs that I decided a song would be perfect for this. I'll try to post the next chapter before I leave Tuesday morning so if I finish it, I'll be posting it tommorow night! And I'll try to write some chapters while I'm gone so you'll have plenty to squeal over (if you want to of course) when I get back! I'm going to try to move this fanfiction along to the next day and stuff because I have so much still planned for this and I'm going to try to continue this to the start of next year (u know, the year after this summer) which for me is 9****th**** grade, the same for Alfred and Arthur so my experiences will help with Alfred's and Arthur's times as freshmen! Don't you wish summer was over now? Jk, this isn't good enough to wish for the end of le summer! XD Kolkolkol**


	4. Naked Cherries

That night, the two boys fell asleep on the queen sized bed. Arthur had pulled Alaska all the way up to his shoulders and was turned on his side so as not to see the American while Alfred was a little more care-free, letting Georgia rest over his ankles and Maine lie on his waist. Alfred was so tired, the new British dude had worn him out and his tears from earlier that day had already made him exhausted. Adding the fact that he did boring homework for hours, he was asleep as soon as he got into bed. Arthur wasn't so tired though. He was restless from nervousness so sleeping was hard enough to even imagine. He ended up flipping over to his other side and watching Alfred's sleeping face.

It was a pretty sight though he would never actually admit it. The American must have been experiencing a blissful dream too. Even through his sleep, Alfred was smiling at something. Arthur was secretly hoping it was a fantasy about him but he knew that that was impossible. Soon enough, Arthur eyes closed and his muscles relaxed, his heart slowing to a nice rhythm.

"Wha...!" Alfred let out a noise of astonishment too early in the morning for someone who just woke up. He and Arthur were facing each other on the bed and Arthur's arm was slung over Alfred's back in a loose hug almost. Arthur couldn't help but wake when he heard the noise startle his sleep. His eyes opened to blue eyes staring at him adjacent to a deep blush on the American's face. He looked down at his arm and realized where it was placed as he quickly pulled his arm back to his chest tightly. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't fall asleep this way! I just sort of...fell asleep...this way," Arthur mentally face-palmed himself for the lame excuse.

"N-no sweat. I'm just gonna change." Alfred jumped from his own bed and leapt around the room in search of the clothes he wanted to wear today. He found his favorite blue t-shirt with a black tiger pattern printed across the fabric and tugged it on over his head. He had slept in only shorts last night which probably wasn't a very modest thing to do now that he looked back on his decision. His shorts slid off of his body like water on his skin and he shoved on his dark blue jean shorts. It was summer in Florida so to wear jeans in this heat with the raging humidity would instantly cause people to think less of his intelligence. His jean shorts were enough to let air seep over the skin of his legs and cool him down while still stylish enough to make the ladies scream. Two thumbs up.

Arthur looked over to the now dressed American and loathed what he saw. Alfred was wearing blue _again_! "Hey, don't you own any other shirts that _aren't _blue?"

"Blues my fave color! I like to wear blue!" Why should he care what the Brit thought anyways?

"Well wear something else because I don't like you wearing blue. It's too sad of a color."

"Hey! Don't go hating on my blue! Besides, it reminds me of my favorite part of the United States' history!"

"And what would that be, git?"

"The Revolutionary War,"

The silence in the room was enough for the two to look at each other in awkwardness for a solid ten seconds before Alfred decided to break it.

"Um, you know, because it's what made America what it is today. I don't have a problem against you or anything."

Arthur got up from the bed and avoided looking at Alfred's face. He changed into a red dress shirt and black shorts that stopped at his knees. He was shoving on his converse while Alfred looked at him frustrated with how their conversations this morning had been going. "Let's just go get something to eat." Alfred mumbled.

Wow! His mom had gone all out on Arthur's first full day here. Fresh pancakes were stacked on two plates next to a bottle of syrup and two glasses half full of chocolate milk. Arthur who had come in still sad from the outfit Alfred had chosen to wear would have said the glasses were half empty. Both boys sat down at the table and ate until they couldn't even lick the dribble of syrup off of their faces. Arthur had bits of syrup here and there near the corners of his mouth which earned an amused grin from Alfred, but Alfred had syrup all over his mouth which called for a certain Brit to laugh hysterically at Alfred's face. The mood had lightened up considerably and Alfred was thankful that it had.

Alfred didn't know what he was going to do for the rest of the day. It would be great to be able to just finish his summer homework but who knew what life was gonna throw at him today. He was a quarter way out of his chair when his little brother Ivan slipped through the kitchen's doorway and slid on the floorboards to the fridge, opening it with a _thunk_ and scanning the food available. Oh yeah, Arthur hadn't met Ivan yet.

Ivan was wearing his stupid scarf again like every day. Alfred had kept telling his little brother that he shouldn't wear it in the summer heat but Ivan insisted like always. Although he was still wearing the scarf, he had abandoned his long, beige coat he wore most of the time for a beige shirt and some camo-patterned shorts. He could easily go into a forest (if there were any in Florida) and be as disguised as a sea horse attached to sea weed.

"Hey, Ivan. Come 'ere!" Alfred beckoned the boy to his side. He wasn't that much older than him but he still had authority. "This is Arthur Kirkland, the foreign exchange student from England you probably heard nothing about."

"Oh, that guy? Yeah, I heard about him. Mom told me he was coming _weeks _in advance!"

"_FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF-!" _Alfred went through a simplified, verbal version of FTW as he heard his little brother say their mom had told him about Arthur but not Alfred, the guy who had to share his _room _with him!

"Whatever. Arthur, meet Ivan. Ivan, meet Arthur. Shake hands or whatever you feel like doing."

"Are you going to let him meet Matthew? Rgh, I cannot stand it any longer. The truth is that I am adopted. I come from Russia and hate speaking in American accent so I will just speak in Russian accent, da?" Ivan had been trying so hard to speak like his brother in fear of not being accepted by the British exchange student but it was just too frustrating. It was more fun to speak in his regular way instead of having to say dude and yo all the time.

"Oh, you're Russian? How interesting. I don't mind your accent at all."

Ivan smiled down at Arthur. He might have been younger but he towered both the American and the Brit by at least a foot. "Matthew is also adopted. He is from Canada but accent is not so different from American's."

"Where _is _Mattie?"

"He is in backyard playing with bear."

"A bear? Why would your brother have a bear? In Florida of all places!" Arthur was confused. Were bears usually in Florida?

"Matthew loves bears so mother bought him bear for birthday. It is white and fluffy. Very nice."

"...well then. That's...interesting."

"Why don't we go find Matthew, eh?" Alfred offered feeling like a Canadian with the added "eh". The two cleaned the table and ran out the back door of the house. Surprisingly, Matthew was right there, sitting under the shade of a tree with a book in his hands and his polar bear in his lap.

"Hey, Mattie! Did you know we had a foreign exchange student?"

Matthew's face was flustered as he looked up at the two approaching him. He wasn't good with social things, especially meeting new people. "Er, hi. I'm Matthew and this is my bear Kumajirou," Matthew whispered.

"It's a very pretty bear. Hello, I'm Arthur Kirkland." Arthur reached his hand out and Matthew obliged, taking his hand in his as they shook to their new acquaintanceship. There was really nothing to do with Mattie after that so they left and walked around the side of the house in search of the sidewalk. It was a perfect day to show Arthur around anyways.

They had been walking in a pleasant silence when Arthur blurted out "What about your brother Francis?"

Arthur saw Alfred visibly tense, his face filled with disgust now. "That bastard doesn't live here. He's a jerk and not good company, you're better off not meeting him for as long as possible."

Arthur wished he could take back his question now that the atmosphere had turned cloudy and an awkward silence now crept over their old pleasant one.

"Oh, I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

Alfred sighed, "Nah, you have a right to know and it's better to tell you off the bat what he's like than wait for you to find out yourself. I hope you don't ever have to meet him though. I don't plan on letting you meet my dad, I barely even see him myself so the only way you'd get to see him is if I went and I am _not _going over there."

Arthur was curious. He had no clue about Alfred's past, nor his relationships with his family. They walked on for a few more minutes before Arthur decided to ask again, "Um...would you mind if I could meet him sometime?"

Again, the silence stretched on for what seemed like hours as they walked slowly through the neighborhood. Hadn't they already passed this house? No, it was just the nerves jostling in Arthur that caused him to rethink everything...right? Arthur's face was sweating like crazy and it wasn't from the heat.

"...fine."

What? Had Alfred agreed to let him meet his dad? "Y-you promise?"

"...yeah, sure."

"You have to mean it. If you don't take me to see him before the summer is over I'll fill your pants with cherries and make you walk around all day with cherries stuffed up your ass."

"Hahaha! Deal! And if I _do _take you to see him, you have to...run around the neighborhood naked!"

"Only if you do it with me!"

"Wouldn't miss it!"

Alfred and Arthur laughed at their immaturity. Either way, Alfred would have to do something embarrassing and Alfred knew it too. But this was just too much fun! He felt like he had a real friend which he hadn't had in years. Not even his best friend Gilbert could compete with Arthur right then. Maybe seeing his father once this summer wouldn't be _too _bad.

**Lol, I couldn't think of what to write for this chapter to get it moving and it ended up in a really stupid yet cute bet between the two. The title of this chapter doesn't even make sense until you read the ending about the bet. I'll be gone for a few days so no updates! Sorry! I'll hopefully have a bunch when I get back! I know I should be working on my Heroes are Disguised story but this one is just too much fun! Maybe I should make a chapter where they decide to dress up in costumes or something because they're bored and Arthur is a pirate-captain-guy. SEXY PIRATE IGGY, non? ;D hahaha**


	5. Captain Arthur Kirkland

Alfred and Arthur had walked around the whole neighborhood and were exhausted. They turned left on the sidewalk next to the house with the pink paint-job and walked on for a few more minutes in search of their house. They hadn't wasted much time and there was still so much of the day left so Alfred was trying to think of something to do. There were no good movies out in theaters right now and it was too hot to go do something outside. They could go find a place to cool off...but air-conditioning was so much more convenient than having to walk to a nearby pool. That's when the idea hit him.

"I know what to do today," grinned Alfred. Arthur was curious as to what the American had thought of but Alfred wouldn't tell him. "I'll _show_ you." Alfred grabbed the Brit's hand and they rushed through the rest of the neighborhood until they finally stopped back at their house. What could there be to do in here?

"Come up with me to my, um, _our_ room." Alfred said. He ran up the stairs, opened his door, and quickly scavenged his closet looking for something. What it was, Arthur had no clue but Alfred certainly was looking hard. "Ah, here it is!"

Alfred pulled out a pirate hat befitting a captain and a long cloak lined with what looked like gold but the costume couldn't have been _that_ expensive. He set the two articles of clothing on the chair close to his closet door and continued to rifle through his closet. He stopped again and pulled out a billowy white shirt with some ruffles parading the collar. In his other hand were a pair of knee-high, black boots and a long necklace with an "X" hanging from the chain. He picked up the hat and the cloak and handed the bundle to Arthur who looked sorely confused. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Wear it, duh! You get to be Captain Arthur Kirkland today! I'm still looking in here for something to wear myself."

"And what is the purpose of wearing this rubbish?"

"Well, to pretend to be pirates of course! Actually, you're a captain, not a measly pirate like me once I find my costume. We can go hunt for treasure and fight in a battle against pirate Ivan and Captain Mattie! I'm sure I have enough outfits for another captain in here somewhere." Alfred stuck his head back inside the closet and continued to startle the piles of clothes on the floor of the cramped space.

"Why would I-" Arthur stopped himself. He was a _Captain._..and Alfred would be his underling. "Heheh,"

"You say something?"

"Oh, nothing. I'll just go change into this outfit then."

Alfred finally located the rest of his pirate gear and closed the doors to his closet. "I'm gonna go find Ivan and Mattie to give 'em these costumes." Alfred hadn't even bothered to look up at the now clothed Arthur. Instead, he left the Brit and walked over to Ivan's room.

"Hey! Ivan! Can I come in?"

"Da."

Alfred opened the door and flung the designated clothes for Ivan's pirate costume at the Russian's face. "You're gonna play pirate with us, right?"

"Aren't we too old for this, Alfred?"

Ha, the Russian might have been trying to look older but his wanting expression was as clear as the windows on the wall. "No way, dude. You and me are pirates and Arthur and Mattie are going to be Captains. You better get on these clothes and find your water gun!"

"I though you liked being Captain, not pirate?"

"Eh, I'll live. I figured it would be more fun for Arthur to be a Captain than just a pirate, you know?"

"Da, that was nice."

"Thanks, dude."

Alfred left the Russian to change and jogged over to his older brother's room. He knew better than to just call out to Matthew and instead chose to knock on the light wood of his door.

"Is that you, Alfred?" Matthew asked in a hushed tone.

"Yeah, it's me. Can you let me in?" Alfred replied.

"Oh, okay." The American could hear the thuds on the floor as Matthew walked over to the door and opened it wide. "Yes?"

"Hey, I wanna play pirate with you guys. I got your captain costume right here! Can you play?"

"Eh? Well...I was going to call Francis toda-"

"Dammit! You're playing pirate with us! That bastard can go live with dad by himself!" Alfred inwardly cringed at saying the word "dad". He preferred the term "father", more formal, the works. But he knew his brothers would think he was weird if he openly called him that.

"Okay...I'll call him later, maybe he can meet Arthur."

"He can meet him some other time if he cares. Now go get your water gun and change!" Alfred threw the clothes into the Canadian's outstretched arms. He shut the door of his own accord and let Matthew's shocked face linger in his mind as he walked back into his own room to change. He had been looking at the door knob while closing it so when he lifted his face to see the rest of his room, he was met with a fluffy onslaught of ruffles.

"Wha tha hel?" Alfred said with muffled words. He looked up into the face of Arthur in full-on Captain costume and blushed furiously. Even though Arthur was standing on a chair to be taller than Alfred, he was still...well..._sexy_.

His ruffle-y white shirt was tight on his chest but loose in all the right places, the ruffles added a bit of curiosity to what was not showing of his chest. The coat that reached all the way to his knee-high boots gave him a bad-ass sort of aura and the necklace resting atop his ruffles added just enough color to his upper body. The jeans he had chosen to wear with his laced up boots hugged his ass and left you wanting more. To top it off, his pirate Captain's hat gave him a rebel look, especially with the smirk on his face.

"You like what you see?" Arthur reached down his hand and lifted Alfred's chin with his index finger suggestively. But it didn't mean anything because Arthur was just acting! There was no way that he was trying to set a mood! At least, that's what Alfred was thinking. He half hoped that the move really did mean something but that was just a wasted wish.

"Um, I have to...uh...change! Yeah, change!" Alfred tried to grin up at Arthur and looked almost believable. He had perfected his acting for five years so how could he _not_ look relaxed?

"That's a brilliant idea, my slave. Go change into the clothes I...revised for you."

Arthur left the room with a final swish of his long cloak. The American simply stared even after the door had been shut, but he snapped out of it so he had enough time to change into his pirate outfit. Then he noticed what Arthur had meant.

The clothes were set on his bed neatly but there were many differences in the articles of clothing. The white t-shirt now had no sleeves, obviously ripped from the fabric, and there were holes in random places of the shirt. One hole was coincidentally right where his nipple would be and was big enough to show a good portion of his chest! The red handkerchief he was planning on wearing backwards to show only the part where he tied it around his neck wasn't plain red anymore. He couldn't figure out how he had done it, but Arthur had managed to line black stripes horizontally across the whole scarf! He had to admit though, it _did _add some extra flare. Arthur had even went ahead and picked out some jeans for Alfred to wear with his flashy outfit. They were his skinniest pair and were practically skin-tight. They really added emphasis to his ass, especially since he had no cloak to hide it. Alfred, too, had knee-high boots that were a murky brown and laced up in the front.

Once he had shoved on all of his clothes, he realized as he looked in the mirror that he looked kinda sexy too! It caused him to strike a couple of poses before he ran outside to find his water gun and catch up with his "crew".

Water gun in hand and pirate costume on his body, Alfred ran up to his two brothers and Arthur. "Thanks for the 'revising', Artie." Alfred said sarcastically. He liked the new additions but he hadn't asked for them and he definitely didn't want to give the Brit any satisfaction.

"You're very welcome, slave. Oh, and _don't _call me Artie." Arthur said in a voice dribbling in fake happiness.

"I'm not your slave!"

"You are when you're on _my _ship. By the way, where _is _my ship? And how do we play?"

"I thought we could find a place and set up forts or something and fight with our water guns as pirates! There's a river near here and before you say anything, yeah, there are rivers in Florida. We could go there and find some rocks, build a fort, and have a battle!" The idea sounded so appealing to Alfred. Ivan was looking forward to the fight, he kind of liked to make kids cry, and Matthew just wanted to stay out of everyone's target range.

"Don't you think it'd be more fun with more people?" Matthew suggested.

"...um, well I really only have Gilbert and that's it."

"How about we call up Gilbert and invite him...and Francis too to have even sides."

Alfred glared at his oldest brother. He was sick of the hints people left him to get in contact with his father's side of the family. After five years of the divorce, he didn't really see the point in family anymore. He couldn't imagine someone feeling such intense sadness when their grandparent died or not seeing their aunt for a year. All of those emotions had been taken away from him and he didn't care.

"Let's walk to the river."

Xxxxxxx

"Wow, this is perfect!" Alfred had set up a fort on the right side of the stream using medium-sized rocks and boulders light enough for him and his Captain to push. Ivan and Mattie were on the other side almost done with theirs, their water guns resting in the grass.

"Alfred, I need to have a word with you. Come here now, my slave." Arthur still hadn't gotten out of his character and he didn't plan to.

"I keep telling you to quit it with the slave thing. I'm part of your crew!" Alfred said as he walked over to his Captain.

"Aye, but I had to capture and force you to do my bidding. Therefore, you are my slave." Arthur was standing on top of a rather small, leftover boulder when Alfred finally reached him. Arthur bent his head and shifted Alfred's handkerchief to the side, opening a wide spot of bare skin.

"What are you-ah!" Alfred's words were cut off as he let out a stifled moan. Arthur's hands were on his shoulders, keeping the American still, while his lips had sunk down to his neck and playfully bitten the soft skin there. He continued to suck at the now red spot that had formed on his neck before he raised his head and looked down at Alfred's blushing face again. "W-why did you do that?"

"As a slave, I must mark you as my own or else the offending ship will capture you." Arthur grinned sexily.

Oh, he was still in character...weird. The American shifted his gaze so as not to look at the Brit. Had he..._liked _that? No way. He was just tired and thinking strange things, that's all. Alfred was still pondering his emotions when he felt a cold burst of liquid on his back, the water dripping down his profile and landing at his feet.

"What the-?"

"Yoho, Alfred! Did you forget about me and my malicious crew?" Mattie shouted across the flowing river as he pointed to his 'malicious crew', population: 1.

"Ha ha! Never!" Alfred loaded his water gun and shot across the stream. The water splatted in Matthew's face while his bear practically glared back at him.

Oh. Mattie's malicious crew now = population of 2.

"Well, Captain? How about we call in _our_ crew?"

"What the bloody hell are you talking about, slave?" Arthur asked bewildered. But he didn't have to question for long. Alfred lifted his hands to his face and whistled loud enough for it to echo.

"WHALEY!"

"Wha-?"

A giant whale appeared from under the water and zoomed across the river to Alfred who was now patting its head. "Good Whaley."

"Why do you have a whale?"

"Cause he's my friend! Just like Mattie's polar bear! Sadly, Whaley has to live here in the river but I come to visit him often." Alfred grinned.

Before Arthur could ask any more questions, Matthew started to shout across the river his pirate threats. Being the Captain of his crew, Arthur had to focus on their new battle which soon commenced.

It lasted for hours. Give a boy a water gun and they're happy for a month. By the end of the splashing, water-shooting, and laughing, all four-um-_six _of them were laying on the grass, tired. Except for Whaley who stuck to lying in the river instead.

**I LOVE CAPTAIN IGGY. Had to write something about him being a pirate, lol. I haven't seen the episodes with America's whale yet so I'm sorry if I got his name wrong. I'm writing this with no Wi-Fi either so I couldn't look it up. I'm waiting for season 4 to be dubbed before I watch it. England stepped it up a notch in this one! Continuous references to Francis = introduction soon! Maybe their father will be introduced too! Who wants who to win the bet? Alfred (both Arthur and Alfred will have to run around their neighborhood naked) or Arthur (Alfred will have to wear pants filled with cherries for a whole day lol). Idk who should win yet but it will probably have to be Alfred so that the story can keep moving throughout the summer unless I write more chapters about their relationship and summer ends without Arthur meeting Alfred's dad. I'd probably end up having to make them realize their feelings sooner then. So whoever wins the bet really sets the direction of this story for a while! If you want, tell me who you want to win. Either one is fine. Thanks for all of the reviews so far too! I really appreciate them! I hope this was a good chapter and not too much of a filler ^^'**


	6. I Don't Hate You

Alfred was lying on the left side of his bed with his laptop. The device was causing his USA blanket to be unnaturally hot, warming Ohio and Pennsylvania.

"What are you doing, git?" Arthur was tired of reading his book on one of Alfred's many chairs as he continued to be ignored by the American. Alfred looked up, causing his glasses to slide carelessly to the edge of his nose. He fixed the position of his glasses (which he decided to name Texas for his love of America) as he replied.

"Watchin' YouTube."

"Wha! And here I thought you were doing homework and decided to leave you be while I died of boredom! At least let me have a look!"

"Dude, I never said you couldn't. Jeez, stop nagging me. We sound like a married couple!"

Arthur blushed at the suggestion but plopped onto the right side of the bed, shoving the rest of America over his body. He quite enjoyed Alfred's blanket. He had even took the time to draw a "You Are Here" dot near their location in Florida which Alfred had proceeded to fuss over, saying that he had "ruined his blanket". Arthur paused as he glanced over the page Alfred had been looking at. He had typed in "what the british think of americans" in the search box and had been looking at the results for his search when Arthur jumped onto the bed.

'_He must really want my approval of himself..._' Arthur thought. It sort of excited him to know that Alfred really wasn't as confident as he let himself look. Either that or he was just really curious but the former was more fun to imagine.

In reality, Alfred just loved his country so much that he couldn't bear to know that anyone hated it. Not only that, but if someone hated Americans, it was kinda like they hated _him_. He shivered at the thought.

"Oh, I was just looking. Um... I think I know a few funny videos if you want to watch those." Alfred moved his hand over the keyboard, ready to type something else into the search box when Arthur snatched his hand away. "No, go ahead. Don't mind me." Arthur had to admit, he was curious as to what his fellow citizens had posted about this topic.

Alfred looked back to the screen and immediately saw a video titled "Why the British Hate Americans". He stared back at the laptop frozen. Arthur looked over to Alfred and tried to type in something else on his keyboard. This was the worst thing that could have happened! Before Arthur could even press the 'F' key, Alfred clicked the video and waited for it to load.

"W-why don't we watch something else? You mentioned you knew of some funny videos didn't you?" Arthur asked desperately.

"No. This looks interesting." Arthur cringed at Alfred's monotone voice. The lack of emotion made his heart shrivel.

The video loaded just as Arthur was about to protest but Alfred cut him off, clicking the play button and letting the video start. The beginning was nice, the American flag with the national anthem and then the Union Jack with the British national anthem. Arthur recognized the familiar tune right away. Then the film started to show its bad side. It mentioned how America should still be under the British rule and how most Americans are fat idiots. It even did something as stupid as comparing Fox News, an American news channel, to BBC. It showed a rude picture of a stereotyped American and then went on to say that Americans butchered the English language. The video ended with the Union Jack once again on the screen with the sentence "England is the best".

Silence flooded the room shared by the two boys. It was dripping from the atmosphere and grew denser near Alfred's private bubble. His face, covered by his bangs and drooping hair curl (which he later found out was called Nantucket), continued to stare at the screen. It was impossible to see any emotion on the American's face.

"Al-"

Alfred's lip began to tremble. He turned to the Brit who now noticed every tear trickling down the American's face. Arthur's heart fell limp at the sight.

"HOW COULD YOU? Do you really hate us? Hate me? I n-never would have thought!" Alfred couldn't help but cry. The video was the most prejudice, rude, and stereotypical thing he had ever seen.

"N-no Alfred...I-"

"Look at the recommended videos!"

Alfred gestured to the side of the page where similar videos could be found. To Arthur's horror and Alfred's sadness, they saw multiple videos titled things like "America sucks lol" "Stupid Things Americans Say" "Idiot Americans in London" and more. Oh, so much more. Alfred scrolled down the page, his cries getting louder. He was literally sobbing. He cuddled into his blanket, letting America's warmth soothe him.

Alfred shut his laptop closed and ran out of his own room. Stumbling, he managed to get all the way down the stairs and through the back of the house into the backyard. The American continued to run even further, through trees, grass, and fallen sticks until he finally found what he was looking for.

The River. The place he came to when depressed about the divorce or his dad...the sacred place he had let Arthur see. Drooping to his knees, Alfred leaned over the stream and wished he could take it back. He wished he had never let the Brit come to this place and that his mom had never signed up for this whole thing. Alfred's reflection greeted him with tears mirroring his own. He knew it was stupid, but the river made him feel like someone was crying with him, for him. Even if it _was _just his reflection, at least there was someone in the world that cared about him.

"W-why..." The question was so quiet, he was sure only he could hear it. But there was no one else here anyways so it's not like it mattered whether he spoke up or not. Little did he know that someone actually did.

Great splashing noises erupted from the water in front of him as a whale appeared in the river. It quickly swam over to Alfred and nudged his shoulder, a gesture only true friends could do. Alfred let his sadness take over him. He sloppily flopped onto the whale's back and let it carry him in the water, the motions of the small ripples and waves caressing his sorrows.

"Thank you, Whaley. You're my best friend." The sentence was sad yet true. Gilbert was as good a person as anybody but not as caring as Whaley.

The pair had been resting in the river, Alfred's tears beginning to slow to a stop, when Arthur jumped out of the forest of trees hiding the water from view. Alfred's head was turned to the side, not even noticing the intruder.

"Alfred,"

The American stiffened, refusing to turn his head and look at the Brit. "Go away."

"No, Alfred. I won't. I don't hate you. I don't hate your friends, your family, not even the people we've passed by on the street! If I hated Americans, why would I have chosen to be a foreign exchange student here?"

"I don't know. Maybe you wanted a good laugh or something to tell your British buddies back home. I don't give a damn."

Alfred wasn't much of a person who enjoyed cussing, so it was clear to Arthur that the situation was more serious than he originally thought.

"A-Alfred, please, believe me..."

"I'm tired. Could you let me sleep on my whale in peace?"

Arthur was growing frustrated with Alfred's refusal to speak to him face-to-face. He trudged through the water and grabbed Alfred, pulling him off the whale's back and back to dry land. The American gasped at the periodic lack of oxygen while being dragged through the streaming liquid.

"I will not let you sleep until we solve this!"

Alfred's face was turned to face Arthur's. What Alfred saw frightened him. The look of anger and frustration on the once friendly face had consumed his entire being. Everything Alfred had just been thinking vanished as he looked at Arthur. Alfred's eyes grew wide and he lay frozen in Arthur's grasp. The Brit couldn't help but notice the deep fight in his eyes and he placed the American upright in hopes of calming him down.

"Y-you're...angry at me." Arthur wished there was some sort of bag around he could hand to Alfred to help him breath. It looked like he was going to faint any minute. Arthur's expression changed to one of worry which caused the American to visibly relax some.

"What's wrong?"

Alfred hesitated. "...I can't handle anger. It scares me. The look on your face...when you were frustrated with me...I couldn't take it."

Arthur sat on the grass, feeling like he was just told a well-kept secret. Something Alfred tried not to tell anyone. "Have you told anyone?"

"A-a few people. Most don't understand. I don't go blurting it out to everyone though. I try to keep it inside whenever someone gets angry in public but it's hard. Haha!" Alfred's laugh sounded stressed and fake.

"...I'm sorry."

Arms were wrapped around Alfred's body as he was pulled into the Brit. Alfred blushed all over but silently brought his hands to the arm in front of him in a sort of half-hug. Being that the two were sitting at each other's side, the hug hadn't been tight or perfect...but loose side-hugs were the best.

They sat like that for a few seconds, letting each other relax into the other's warmth and sweet touch. It even brought a small smile to the American's face.

"I'm glad...that you don't hate me," he whispered.

Arthur leaned in as close as he could to his American friend.

"Never in a million years would I dream of hating you, Alfred."

**Apparently I am not allowed to express my feelings through my writing. I took out all of my author's notes for this chapter. Thanks.**


	7. Fantasies? Pfft, yeah right

The breeze felt soothing on his back, swirling little circles onto his bare skin. Alfred was crouched over on the porch wearing nothing but shorts and his beloved glasses he had named Texas. It was the type of thing you could get away with in the summer heat of Florida. A little white stick was poking out of his mouth as he sucked on a lollipop. Mmm, grape-flavored.

"Shouldn't you put your shirt back on, Alfred?" Oh yeah. Alfred had forgotten that Arthur was sitting next to him on the porch too. He needed to talk more. "Nah, its Florida. Didn't you see the news? It's over a hundred degrees today! That plus the humidity, you'd be crazy to wear a shirt." Arthur scrunched up his face. "I think you mean mad."

"Huh?"

"It's not _crazy, _it's mad."

"Dude, did you miss something? I'm _American. _A-M-E-R-I-C-A-N. Américain. Americano. Get it now?"

"Whatever, git."

"Hmph."

The two had been like this ever since their fight. They were friends again, yet they couldn't help but notice subtle differences between themselves now. Alfred tended not to point it out but Arthur for some reason, couldn't _not _correct him.

The fact that Arthur really wasn't American became real to Alfred now. America was such a big country that seeing different cultures wasn't always necessary. His own culture was overpowering enough. Americans traveled to different places in _America _for trips and vacations, while other countries were so small, they had no choice but to be influenced by other countries. Alfred remembered when he first saw a map of Europe and exclaimed "_That's_ Greece? It's so tiny! England is that little thing over there? Why aren't they bigger?" Alfred usually forgot that some things didn't actually come from America, including Arthur. But that had all changed now.

"Hand me some sweets too." Alfred flinched at Arthur's accent, taken off guard. He handed over the bag of lollipops anyways. It wasn't that big of a deal. Alfred knew he'd get over it eventually. Hopefully soon.

"So, when are we going to meet your father?" Alfred almost chocked on his lollipop.

"W-what?"

"We made that bet, remember? If you don't take me to meet him before the summer is over, you have to wear pants stuffed to the brim with cherries." Arthur grinned maliciously at the thought.

"W-well that's not gonna happen! You're gonna meet him and then have to run around the neighborhood _naked_! Ha!"

"You will too."

"I- what?"

"Remember? You promised me you'd run around naked with me too if you won." Arthur snickered as Alfred face-palmed.

"Whatever." Alfred mumbled.

* * *

It was weird. He had done this so many times with Gilbert and some of his other friends but Arthur was completely different. Arthur was letting out shallow breaths and practically moaning. "N-no, don't make me do this!"

"Dude...we're walking to 7-Elleven. What's the problem?"

"T-too...hot...ugh."

Alfred sighed. He had gotten used to Florida long ago; it's 2 week winters, the need for only the lightest jacket possible during December, what not to do at the beach (it was a long list too), and even how to deal with hurricanes. "Just take off your shirt if you're that hot. You're limping on the sidewalk! Come on, dude! It's not that bad!" Alfred was staring at the Brit in confusion. It was only 97 degrees right now. The temperature had dropped a good five degrees already today!

Arthur on the other hand felt like he was dying. He was sweating through the lightest shirt he had brought and it felt like the bloody world was squishing him. Realizing he had no choice, Arthur reluctantly pulled off his shirt and continued with Alfred on their walk to 7-elleven. The slurpies better be worth it.

When Arthur finally pulled off his shirt, Alfred had not been expecting _that_. The American gazed at the Brit's smooth chest, built to perfection. What was he thinking? Alfred quickly looked away and focused on a squirrel running up a tree instead. He was being weird. He had never felt anything for Arthur and he never would. Never. _Never._ Alfred shook his head and let the thoughts scramble around until they finally dissolved as they got to the end of the neighborhood. Cars flew past causing wind to fly with them, creating loud, obnoxious noises. This was why he lived in the center of his neighborhood.

Alfred turned left and continued walking up the busy street, Arthur following beside him. The noises kept their silence at a non-awkward level thankfully since the American couldn't think of what to say. Arthur studied his foreign surroundings and didn't even notice Alfred's continuous glances in his direction. Looking ahead, Alfred saw how far away they were from their destination. They had to continue all the way up until they got to the stop-light blocks away and then cross the street onto 7-elleven territory. With nothing else to do, he decided he could at least start up a conversation.

"So...this the first time you've taken off your shirt in public?" WHY HAD HE ASKED _THAT?_ The blush threatened to creep onto his face.

"Hm, no. I've gone shirtless a few times but not very often. Do you?" Arthur didn't realize the extent of this topic.

"N-n-no, I don't either." Whether it was a lie or not, Alfred couldn't remember. All he knew was that Arthur had just asked him about taking off his shirt, exposing his chest, his skin...

The red on his face went full-on now and it almost looked as if he was bleeding. His cheeks felt way too hot, especially with the heat already in the air. He wished he could peel off his face like he did his shirt so he could save himself from the burning embarrassment.

Arthur turned to Alfred for the first time since he took off his shirt and grew a confused look on his face. Why was Alfred blushing so hard? He was so red, it looked like It would be kind of fun to tease him a little...so he did.

"What? Do you _like_ me, Alfred?" Arthur asked with a smirk decorating his red-less face.

Alfred's blush exploded onto his neck and traveled up his ears. W-what was he saying? There was no possible way he could like Arthur! That was insane! Stupid! Illogical!

"I-I-I don't l-like you. H-how could you even th-think that? Now you really are c-crazy!"

Oh. This was too fun.

"Are you sure about that? Because it looks like you're fantasizing about me right now. Me, sliding my fingers over your chest, touching your hair, kissing you up your neck until you beg for more..." Arthur didn't know why he was saying all of this but he couldn't help it. The look on Alfred's face was...adorable. He looked so nervous and flustered. So innocent.

"I would never-I don't-I'm not-Stop implying things!" Alfred had started to shiver. It was anything but cold on the heated sidewalk...but he couldn't help but imagine everything Arthur had just said, and he didn't know why but...it _thrilled _him.

Arthur was going to make another comment when Alfred started running back into the forest of houses behind them.

"You can't run away from this! I'm going to make you answer me!" Arthur yelled after him. His legs picked up and he started to charge after Alfred who had shouted "You can't catch me! I'm the gingerbread man!" hoping to involve some type of humor in this to keep him from thinking about what Arthur had said and to change the situation. Arthur started to run faster and Alfred tried to pick up the pace too.

They had been running for five minutes when Alfred started to slow down enough for the Brit to slowly catch up to him, stretching out his arm ready to grab at him. He was right behind him. He could see every strand of Alfred's wispy, dirty-blonde hair as it trudged through the wind whipping it back. He was going to make it. He would not lose him again! He dreaded that feeling of being parted from this git, of how they would be the same if it wasn't for a stupid fight for freedom. They would be exactly like each other...but maybe that's not what Arthur wanted.

His fingers tightened on Alfred's shoulder and they both toppled over, crashing to the ground and breathing hard. Arthur flipped onto his back like Alfred and stared at the sky, a camouflage of blue and white. It was silent and he wondered if the American had heard his thoughts, if he had been screaming them in his mind that loudly. Soon though, Arthur heard a slight chuckle and then a few more before Alfred started all-out laughing, the earlier situation completely forgotten.

And Arthur smiled, joining in.

Who needed slurpies anyway?

**Yayayay, I have completely forgotten the videos on le YouTube :D I'm even thinking about buying some England cosplay but I haven't yet. This chapter was kinda weird since I didn't want to write about Arthur meeting Alfred's dad yet nor them realizing their feelings. But I figured a little shove in Alfred's direction couldn't hurt since he is pretty clueless MOST of the time. Does le England's suggested fantasy excite you? ;D Honhonhon. This is getting so much better! I saw the whole statistics thing for this though and apparently most people stopped reading after the first chapter. WHY MUST THE GOOD NOT READ? Dx *le sigh* Oh well. Any help in telling me who to cosplay? I'm most like America, I have France's hair and take French, but I also love England, Canada (ehem, he knows French too), and Russia. I'm probably gonna go as England now though. MAYBE America. But I still love France and I have his hair! And Canada is so cute! And Russia is so sexy! D: What is a fangirl to do? I'd probably wear the cosplay for Halloween, any homecoming week stuff involving something like a character day, a spirit week **_**maybe**_** (one of our colors is green and England is GREEN), if I decide to make some videos or take pictures, for fun, etc. Oh! And to Metrocon next year! So HELP ME PLEASE O_O**


	8. Slytherin and Gryffindors!

Wow. Even through the heat, humidity, and activeness of Florida...it was still a pretty nice place at times. The sun was shining through the windows, maneuvering through the cracks of the blinds and gaps in the thin-but-not-too-thin drapes. The small birds sung lazily from afar, creating a more relaxing than annoying background theme. Lying in a pile of clouds outside in a peaceful meadow is what this felt like...until Arthur was so rudely awakened by an obnoxious idiot jumping up and down on his stomach.

"Would you-ugh-stop your-urgn-bloody-mmf-BOUNCING?" Arthur exclaimed through gritted teeth. He wanted to grab Alfred's ankle and sling him through the window and into the outside beauty but he'd probably ruin that too.

"Dude! Wake up! You're goin' to Harry Potter World! _With me!_ Great, huh?"

Arthur was too stunned to make a sarcastic remark about the last part of Alfred's statement. He was going to bloody _Harry Potter World._ W-what? Were those...tears in his eyes? He quickly swiped them away before the American could see them.

"W-well, I better prepare then. Where's my mobile?"

"You mean your cell phone?"

"...right."

The two flew through their morning routines. It was extremely early now that Arthur noticed. 6 AM actually. Alfred slipped on an Invader Zim t-shirt and Arthur his Union Jack shirt. When they were done getting dressed (looking away from each other, Alfred had insisted) they turned to see what they were wearing and gave the other a puzzling glance.

Arthur was sporting a Slytherin tie. Green was his favorite color and when he considered what house he'd be in, Slytherin just seemed right. Alfred had a Gryffindor tie slung around his neck. When it came to choosing his house there was no question. Alfred commented on how cool Arthur's tie was without realizing that Gryffindors and Slytherins were practically mortal enemies, but it's not like the houses meant anything in real life, right?

The car ride was dreadfully long. Two hours of being forced to listen to crummy American music Alfred had made Arthur to listen to and not being able to read his book. Then again, it was nice living so close to famous amusement parks. Some people had to fly over from different states, even countries so maybe it wasn't _too _bad.

The car soon came to a stop in the huge parking garage and the two stepped out, Alfred's mom going shopping instead. Arthur was squealing all over and was too happy to hide it properly. He absolutely _loved_ Harry Potter and to be able to go to Harry Potter _World _was just...amazing!

"Hey look, it's Bubba Gump!" Alfred said pointing to the famous restaurant after they got in with their tickets. Arthur couldn't care any less about the place and just wanted to get to the Harry Potter section of the park as quick as humanly possible. Hurtling himself through the crowds of people, he did manage to see some of the sights on their way. They went over a bridge to get into the park and passed a lot of colorful and decorated buildings not related to any sort of theme.

Then they went through a huge Dr. Seuss area of the park. It looked like the books and movies exactly, the strange houses arranged out of shape and order, the big, fluffy trees that looked like furry lollipops, there was even a carousel using Dr. Seuss creatures in place of horses. There were colors everywhere and everything was out of order yet completely functional in its own way. It was a place that made any stiff person loosen a bit and just enjoy their time there.

Soon enough, they meandered into another area of the park almost to their original destination. It was very...foreign-like. Everything seemed dusty and old. Arthur was pretty sure the map had called it the lost continent but maybe that was a different place in the park.

All of a sudden, there it was. Arthur looked above him and watched as the 'Welcome to Hogsmead' sign passed over his head, proceeding to tell him to be cautious of the spell limits. His eyes widened in excitement and he had to keep himself from bouncing, he wasn't careless enough to show Alfred how happy he was. They passed by the Hogwarts Express. Then again...maybe he was.

As Arthur started squealing even more, bouncing from foot to foot, Alfred looked around at the place as a whole. There were a lot of people but he had heard someone say there was about half as many as usual today. Given the heat, it was understandable. Alfred reached into his bag he'd brought and pulled out a long, black Slytherin robe, handing it to Arthur who immediately stopped in his tracks, looking from the robes to Alfred's grinning face.

"I figured you'd want the real deal while here. I borrowed it from Gilbert since he had bought this on Ebay a while back." Arthur smiled a bit in gratitude, proceeding to thank Alfred and then sling the black cloth around his head and pull his arms through the sleeves. Yes, it was hot but he didn't care at all as he silently was heated under the robes. The sun could be purple right now and he wouldn't have noticed, it probably would have been Fred and George's doing anyway.

They went into Zonko's and looked through all the pranking merchandise, Arthur was sure he saw Alfred grab a few things as they roamed closer to the register. Arthur tried on one of the hats available on the hooks near the front of the shop and turned to Alfred who started laughing at his tiny hat connected to a fake braid of black hair stretching past his waist. They moved into the shop connected to Zonko's, Honeydukes.

The candy...it was everywhere. Shelves were stacked with different radiating sweets, chocolate flies were settled on one shelf next to the jelly beans famously known in the books. The chocolate frogs were sitting on the ends of the rows hundreds of boxes each as they were probably in high demand. There were "liquorish clippings", black liquorish strips seemingly cut from a man's head at the front of the sweets shop. The little staircase in the back (which sadly was un-open to tourists and probably didn't work anyways) held jars of candies stacked onto each step. There were tubes of the all-flavored jelly beans in the back of the small store and were crowded by a sea of Harry Potter fans. The shops were at their maximum occupancy, they had to have been. There was no room to move!

Alfred had already gone through the check out and bought his candy and Zonko's merchandise (he'd taken a chocolate frog for sure but what he got at Zonko's he never found out). Arthur grabbed a small blue box of mini chocolate, peppermint frogs. Or maybe it was mint instead of peppermint? It was hard to tell with him being so squished and unable to see much of anything as he went to the register. Since he paid with a credit card, he got to use a huge feather pen to sign his receipt ("Ah! Look! Loooook! Look at the pen, Alfred! I'm like a student at Hogwarts now!").

Alfred just chuckled as they left the shop. True, there were many stores, some even Arthur couldn't remember from the books, but most besides the extremely famous ones were closed. The line to get into Ollivanders was long so it was skipped by the two boys who hoped it would shorten by the time they came back.

Why wasn't there a Harry Potter world in the UK? It was where the books were bloody _made_! He had heard they were making a Harry Potter world in California and Japan now, the Californian one being scheduled to open in 2016. So now America would have _two _Harry Potter worlds and even Japan would have one but nope, not England. Because there certainly were not any Harry Potter fans in England at all!

The American was hurrying to the actual castle, causing the Brit to speed-walk to catch up with him, huffing at how they were passing all of the attractions there. Arthur certainly got many stares with his outfit. True, Alfred had heard a lot of people dressed up at the park but it must have been because of the heat today that they were the only ones.

Arthur was complaining about passing the Three Broomsticks when he heard some voices...or really, a_ccents_. He turned his head and saw three other Brits talking about magic and one of the lesser important characters of the books.

"MY FELLOW BRITAINIANS!"

Arthur was so happy to find people like him, even if they did look at him strangely. Now that he had a better look at them, he noticed that two of them were also wearing Union Jack shirts just like him. When he turned back towards Alfred, he noticed that there were actually a _lot_ of people wearing them. He passed by at least twenty on his way to the castle and the people wearing them that he heard talk all had British accents. He also passed by a girl wearing a "Canada" shirt, wherever that was. There were the typical "out-of-state" shirts too. Someone sat outside the entrance to the Dragon roller coaster wearing a shirt labeled "Michigan" and there were many more like it. Although he found the foreigners from other countries and continents more interesting. When he had almost reached Alfred, he passed by four women, three of which had typical American accents with the exception of one who had a German accent. Huh.

There were a couple of people from random countries but he found most to be Americans and about a third of the people there to be British. When they finally got in line at the castle, he saw Alfred flinch when he realized there were people speaking in a British accent in front a_nd _behind him. It was intimidating to say the least, being so used to just American accents and now surrounded by British ones. It wasn't that the accent didn't sound nice, it was just...odd. He knew most foreigners made fun of American accents, acting as if they all spoke in an exaggerated southern way (the southern accents on TV were very over-done and most heard the accents through media so...). Alfred wasn't that excited when it came to foreign accents anymore, knowing that most foreigners thought of his country's accent to be of lesser value. Although that didn't keep him from being interested when he heard the girl behind him start talking about Fred's death. Aw, poor Fred.

They went through what was available of the castle at a slow pace and then went onto the Three Broomsticks for lunch. The building's roof was piled with fake snow outside ("Hah! Snow in Florida! Hilarious!") Inside was a huge space for people to eat. The menu was pretty expensive but they ordered anyways. When they finally got their food and a table Arthur exclaimed while eating, "Wow, I can't believe they serve fish and chips here!" He ate another one of his French fries-er, _chips_.

"I can't believe it was the most expensive thing on the menu. Probably because it's mainly a British thing to eat fish and chips so they figured most people would buy it to feel like they were actually in England right now. Smart people." Alfred commented.

Arthur was amazed. Alfred's statement sounded...intelligent! Well, he did say he had the smart classes and was even taking a class a year ahead of him but he had never really thought of Alfred as a smart person. Truthfully, Alfred acted pretty stupid most of the time but maybe that was just to hide his true intelligence... and he couldn't help but think that what Alfred had said about the fish and chips was correct.

Alfred sipped his butterbeer. He had gotten the frozen kind which was made very much like a slushy or something but there was a lot of foam at the top as well. It was kind of a butterscotch-like flavor. Very sweet indeed. He couldn't imagine living in the books and drinking it every day. But even if it was intense in sugar, it was still good for one or two cups every once in a while. Arthur had gotten some pumpkin juice and let Alfred try it. Alfred almost spit it out. It was like an apple cider but with pumpkins instead of apples. He could handle apple cider and pumpkin pie, but the two mixed together tasted like dinking an acid pumpkin! It was too much in his opinion. But the design of the bottle it came in was pretty neat at least.

They finished their food and collected their bags. Arthur was carrying quite a few. He had bought a wand by a vendor outside the castle, his peppermint chocolate frogs, an extendable ear, one Slytherin banner, a Hogwarts Tee, and he now had his pumpkin juice sitting in one of the many bags he was carrying. Alfred's arms were much emptier. His chocolate frog, a few Zonko's products, and his butterbeer mug were all he had to carry.

It was getting extremely hot. Arthur in his Slytherin robes looked as if he was baking so Alfred suggested walking over to a more secluded area near a shop that he couldn't recall. It was a little shady there. Arthur was panting and his face was red. This was even worse than the heat on their planned trip to 7-elleven that they cancelled the other day. It had ended up in them both rolling on the grass and cooling off that way but there was no grass here to cool off in.

Alfred was leaning on the shop, looking worriedly at Arthur. He looked so warm in those robes. Too bad they didn't wait to come here until the winter but then the lines would have been even longer! Arthur looked up suddenly at Alfred who froze in place, wearing a worried expression. Alfred was staring at Arthur, who looked sexy with cheeks flushed and his mouth trembling. Wait, what was he thinking?

Arthur was staring at Alfred who looked as cute as he did everyday but even more so when he was obviously worrying over him. A blush crept onto Alfred's face. Both were speechless and their hormones were racing. Arthur stepped closer to Alfred whose body was still leaning on the wall tiredly. The American's eyes widened, surprised above all other emotions and couldn't move as Arthur placed his hands on the wall behind him, trapping him in-between the brick and Arthur's own body.

Arthur leaned in closer, not saying a word. He could feel Alfred's warm breath on his neck, breathing faster as he got closer. Alfred wasn't used to this. He didn't know what to do, shivering lightly as Arthur got closer into his personal space. So Arthur helped him out. Their faces were only a centimeter apart at that point when Arthur closed the gap between them, kissing Alfred fully on the lips. Alfred's eyes closed and his blush deepened. This was not happening. He wasn't prepared. Arthur rubbed against Alfred's body, the warm fabric of his robes adding to the heat of it all. Arthur slipped his tongue into Alfred's mouth and heard Alfred let escape a small, astonished moan, not knowing what to do. He had never had a girlfriend before, no one to love him like this. Wait, love? This _couldn't_ be love. He...no one loved him! He wasn't _allowed_ to love. It was too hard to let people into his life yet this felt so...so good...and then it was over before Alfred even had time to comprehend what was going to happen next.

They parted, looking into each other's faces for a sign of emotion. Alfred was staring at Arthur, dazed, when the realization of what they had just done washed over him all too quickly. He didn't know anything, what would happen now, if their relationship would stay the same, if Arthur had been feeling anything...if he had been feeling anything himself. It was a mess.

And just like that, there one magical moment in their own book ended.

**I don't think I wrote this very well. *le sigh* Oh well, I had to write this fairly quickly and I didn't get to write about the WHOLE Harry Potter World experience since I finally got to go there on Sunday. Yay for living two hours away from amusement parks! Lol, but they're still too expensive to go a lot D: I hope this chapter was okay. Oh, and the tiny small part about the three Americans and one girl with a German accent walking by them, that was me, my friend's mom, my friend's older sister, and the German foreign exchange student they were the host family of. My friend couldn't go in the end but the German foreign exchange student was really nice! Honestly, she was nothing like Germany from Hetalia but still. She said American culture is really popular over there, that taking vacations in America is like a trend or something. I think she even wears shirts with the American flag on them over there and it's the "popular" thing to do ?_? Cool, huh?! She even said she listens to more American music than she does German. She likes a bunch of people I know like Skrillex, One Republic (she knows them somehow in real life too), etc. LONG AUTHOR'S NOTES~ Sorry guys!**


	9. The First Day's Troubles

It had been a weird few weeks. After going to Harry Potter world, neither Alfred nor Arthur were able to treat each other the same. Arthur would still try to act normal but horribly fail at points while Alfred just refused to look him in the face at all. The days seemed too long and the silences when they were left alone together too awkward. But they did manage to get far enough into summer and near the new school year that it was time for their first day of high school.

Alfred woke up, pulling the northern states on his blanket over to the south as he jumped out of bed. Well...maybe that would be an exaggeration. He woke up today the earliest he had all summer so it was more like a fall from his bed to the floor and then a limp across the room. The American shoved on his clothes, choosing to wear his new Captain America t-shirt he got from Hot Topic, shorts, flip flops, and a belt showing all of the countries flags. His hand brushed against his own flag as he heard the seat belt buckle click close. He really loved the new belt fashions these days and man, was it easier to just press a button to unbuckle your belt or what?

A smile graced itself onto Alfred's face for the first time since his trip to Hogwarts. He was finally a high schooler! Time for people to start taking him more seriously! He saw Arthur groan and shift upward in bed, trying to move and get ready for the day. The smile faded slightly on his face but he left the room and bounced downstairs before it could go any farther. He had eaten breakfast, grabbed his backpack, and was standing near the front door waiting eagerly for everyone when he realized it.

_He lost the bet._

* * *

Arthur stepped out of the car just as Alfred's foot stepped onto the sidewalk. What a weird feeling this was. He wasn't going to school in his home turf anymore. He had to get used to life as an _American_ teenager. Well, he supposed that this was the whole point of the exchange. Alfred had barely looked at him for weeks and when he met him at the door, he got the unexpected. He was actually looking at him, but in more of a defensive, almost annoyed kind of way. He remembered the way the American scoffed at him as he left the house and walked out to the car. Something was definitely off about the bloke.

The Brit suddenly looked up at the high school. It was fairly large with tall white walls and some fences here and there... but that choice of words didn't describe it well. It wasn't a prison but more of a...erm...something. The fences were wide and spread out so that the area of the school was larger than it already was (which was huge to begin with) and the school even had practically two halves to it. There was the main building, built in a square-like manner with two courtyards in the center, and then there was an ally that you had to walk over to get to the other half of the school.

If you walked up the ally instead of across it, you would reach a bundle of trailers used for portable classrooms. To get to those though you had to actually _cross a_ _street_. It felt like you were leaving the school almost. Not only that but there were houses very close to the school as if the buildings just fell out of the sky and landed in a secluded neighborhood. Although the school stretched all the way out to the curb of a busy street. If you passed the ally and the portables, you found the second half of the strange new school, consisting of the "bell building" (the building primarily used for science classes that had a bell tower at the top), the gymnasium, the cafeteria (which was a very relaxed place as well), and if you walked far out enough through the halls, you could reach the stadium that was extremely far away from the main building. But it didn't stop there.

There were little places here and there that the Brit couldn't quite place yet as to what they were. He saw a tall, open building with half of the one visible side's wall being a black iron fence, giving it an elegant aura, where many students were sitting on round tables eating chips! Or fries as the Americans call them. There were many snack machines available throughout the school and even some small vendors where people would sell snacks such as cris- _chips_ and those fries everyone found so delicious. It seemed as if everyone was eating a small bowl of them.

Arthur stopped in a hallway, losing sight of Alfred who had scurried away from him as soon as he could. He took the time to notice how open the hallways were. It was like he was walking outside, he could _feel _the fresh air on his skin, but the school still towered above him. It was a very hard place to describe. It wasn't like most other schools where everything is closed off and it's just one huge building. This place was a large cluttered assortment of all sorts of buildings with hallways that didn't shut out the outside. Then there was a second level to the school where the "hallways" were even _more _open. And after you thought there was no more school left to explore, there was a _third floor! _It was inconceivable! Even the architecture was odd. It was a very old school, made not in modern times but as if it was invented over a hundred years ago. Above the stage in the auditorium were a few words about "the Queen" and it was then that he knew that most of the architecture was imported from his home country. He felt a new little sentimental feeling creep up inside of him and knew he would begin to like this school even more now.

Arthur hurried to his homeroom which took some time to find in this huge place but he managed. There was no more time to admire anymore of the school's lay-out. His class was difficult to find but it's not like it was something to fret over if it took a while.

* * *

Alfred frantically skimmed the plaques above each door for his room, room 142.

_Nope, that 128._

He continued walking, starting to hyperventilate over the dilemma until he found room 141 which was at the very end of the hallway. How was he supposed to find his classroom now! Alfred's legs didn't stop him from walking out of the hallway and onto a sidewalk curved into the corner of the school though. He was about to step onto one of the many parking lots of the school when his head turned and saw a sign exclaiming "Congratulations! You have found room 142!" The American blinked at the set of double doors. Inside it was still dark but soon enough a man walked by him with a key and started to unlock the door.

"E-excuse me but are you Mr. Desariea?" He had to give it a shot.

And with luck, the man nodded and opened the door, letting Alfred inside the air-conditioned room. He was relieved at last and let his troubles fall to his sides about his first day of high school and what was yet to come.

* * *

_Dammit. Where is it? ...Here? No. Is it-yes! It's here! Finally!_

There it was. Alfred's first (and second apparently) period class, Portable 7. Well, that was where it was _located _at least. It certainly took some time to find it. To go all the way from his homeroom to his first period was awful since he had no clue where anything was. Thankfully he recognized a sign from his orientation that reminded him that the ally was right there. He ran up the ramp and opened the classroom door to find half the class already there.

He was too flustered from trying to find this magical place that he just sat in a random empty seat, not even bothering to check and see if he knew anyone in the class. Chances were he didn't anyways. Most of his friends went to a different high school, Faun High. And he knew a few others who went into a neat technology program at another school. He doubted many people he knew would be at his school let alone his classes. Not even his friend Gilbert was here with him. It couldn't have been helped though. Gilbert was actually a year younger than him, just starting 8th grade today. They had been best friends for ten years though even with their one year age difference. What was sad was that even when Gilbert did become a 9th grader, he was going to Faun too, just like everyone else.

Alfred felt a tap on his shoulder and looked to his right in annoyance. He froze. In the seat next to him was none other than...Arthur.

"What the hell are you doin' here? !" He had never expected the Brit to be in his classes!

"Just the same as you, git. I'm here for class. What? You didn't think I would be in your classes? Hmph, well, I stole a glance at your schedule after the orientation which you abandoned me at so of course you wouldn't have known I was in this class with you. I won't tell you what other classes we have together, love." Arthur grinned maliciously, boosting up his charm by flaunting his accent. A few girls in the class had let their eyes wander to him amidst their conversations as they failed to keep their glances hidden.

"I-I-I don't care! Whatever!" It hurt a little bit. Arthur seemed to have everything sometimes. The girls all wanted him because of his stupid annoying accent, he was always able to find something to gloat about and make fun of Alfred for, and he sometimes even felt that Arthur looked handsomer than he did. Truthfully, he felt a twang a jealousy in his stomach whenever he saw him, especially now that they weren't (supposed) to be speaking. So to know that Arthur was just as smart as him and maybe even smarter hurt his pride a lot. It was the only thing he had left to be proud of against the Brit's vast majority of achievements and things. So he looked to his desk, refusing to talk to Arthur for the rest of the period. And the period after that...and the period after that.

By the end of the day, Alfred was _exhausted_. He rolled on his bed and curled into his US blanket, feeling the relaxed temperature of Colorado during the summer. Not as hot as Florida, but definitely not as cold as the state was in the winter, that's for sure.

His classes had consisted of AP Human Geography, some sort of study hall-like thing, English 2 Honors, Geometry Honors, Biology (he couldn't remember if it was an AP or Honors class), lunch, Drama 1, and French 3. The only class he and Arthur did not share was 7th period! How he managed to get him for every other class, he did not know, but he knew the only thing that saved him from a Brit-filled 7th period was Arthur's hatred for France. A sad thing to hate people you'd never met based off of only what you'd heard from your peers. But if that was what kept him from being in every single one of his classes, _have at it!_ Most of their classes had upperclassmen too. It was strange. He couldn't tell which classes were only 9th graders. Half of his Geometry and English classes were made up of 10th graders too. He might have and a few 11th graders as well and he sort of remembered someone talking about a senior in his French class but he couldn't remember if that was true or not.

This was pretty neat, to know he was smart enough for classes years above him and not only that but his AP classes were college level! ...but that also made it harder for Alfred to make friends. It was kind of hard for him to believe himself but he actually could be pretty shy sometimes.

There were so many complications throughout the day and so many different things! He couldn't bear to remember them all. He was just too tired. The American was still lying on his bed when Arthur walked in.

He stared as Alfred realized his presence and began to pull the blanket over his face so as to not see him...but for some reason he saw a hint of a blush. The gears rolled in Arthur's head, pondering why Alfred would be blushing at him when the rest of the summer had been glares and quick glances when it all of a sudden hit him. It hit him so hard he was surprised he didn't fall backwards from the force. His jaw dropped as he realized what it meant as well...but it didn't stay that way for long as a playful grin appeared on his face.

"Oh, Alfred, why do you look like that? Is there something you forgot to tell me? Or rather _show_ me?"

Alfred suddenly felt pressure on his body as Arthur climbed on top of him to his astonished embarrassment. He was going to shove him off but Arthur suddenly grabbed his wrists and wrestled them to the sides of his head, not freeing them for the life of him. There was no way Arthur could just let this opportunity leave him before it had even slipped through his hands!

Alfred squirmed but couldn't find an escape route with Arthur pushing him in on all sides. He looked to Arthur and saw the smirk gracing his face and immediately became offensive. He was tired of that smirk. Tired of being showed up and played with. But that didn't stop Arthur from continuing.

"So what was it? I got to stuff cherries up your arse if you didn't let me meet your dad before summer ended?"

"N-no! It was shove them down my pants! Not like that!" Alfred couldn't believe the situation he'd gotten himself into.

"Hm, well I like my version better. But I'll give you a choice Alfred. Either we go with the original bet or I can be a little more flexible."

"Flexible...?"

"Yes. I'd be willing to let the original consequence slide if you chose this option. You'd just have to pretend to be my boyfriend for the entire year. If I were you, I would choose the latter. It's much more fun for the both of us! Although I wouldn't mind those sweet cherries..."

Where was the Arthur Alfred had met that blissful summer day? ! W-well...he already knew his choice anyways. It was the _only _choice.

"F-fine. I'll pretend to be your boyfriend."

Arthur tightened his grip on Alfred's right hand and brought it closer to himself, ready to shake it.

"Deal?"

"..." Alfred looked up into Arthur's eyes. They showed no emotion, just a death stare back into his own. "...Deal."

The two shook on it. Alfred was suddenly freed from Arthur's position and he sat up quickly, not letting any more opportunities to be jumped arise again.

"You really _are_ an idiot." Alfred frowned at Arthur's statement. "You didn't even ask of my requirements as my boyfriend. Did you even wonder who I decided to be the female of this 'relationship'?"

Alfred was shocked. He hadn't thought of that under all of the pressure of his decisions. All he knew was that he wanted to find a way out of Arthur shoving a cherry-filled hand up his ass. That would not have been fun.

"Well, it'll be you, won't it? You _are _the more feminine of the two of us, you know." Alfred stated looking to Arthur who just smirked that annoying little smirk again. He preferred his usual scowl. At least that face didn't mean trouble.

"I don't think you're thinking clearly Alfred. Who was the one who took the lead during our fun little trip to Hogwarts, hm?"

Alfred thought back to the day he had tried so hard to shove out of his mind. But he understood Arthur's point.

"Wait, you don't mean-"

"See you later, love." Arthur said as he strutted- no, _swaggered _out of the room. He seemed pretty happy for himself, like this whole conversation just made his day. Greeeat.

As Arthur closed the door behind him he finally let his heart beat as fast as it had been wanting to. The Brit leaned against the door, letting his body take a break to comprehend everything that just happened. It was as if a whole new, slightly perverted, side of himself had appeared and taken over. And that new side just happened to have made Alfred his boyfriend. Well, even if he was his _fake _boyfriend, that didn't mean he couldn't just forget about the fake part. And maybe Alfred would feel the same way about him soon too. Because he finally realized his own feelings.

He loved him.

**OMGOMGOMGOMG, Arthur you sly dog! Alfred's got some new things to add to his list of freshmen troubles. I completely forgot to update this thing (and I was lazy-) SHUT UP STUPID PARENTHESIS! As I was saying, so I started writing this chapter the day of my orientation but didn't finish it so yeah. I also ended up writing this the day **_**after **_**my first day of high school ^^' ME UNMOTIVATED. But I had fun writing this so I should be motivated again! Idk how much I'll be able to update again with school and what not now. Also, I'm sorry I had to change the bet up. By the time I started writing it was too late to continue it and I also was too lazy to write about all of my freshmen woes and worries in here so I left out basically ALL of Alfred's first day. Sorry guys! But I'm going to a non-fundamental school now! I've been in fundamental schools my whole life so this is a real change. But I like it! So many more freedoms, get to have out phones all the time, get to wear SHORTS AND FLIP FLOPS! YEAH! Florida gets hot, yo. Forgot everything else I wanted to say in here :'D Oh well :3 Sorry again for the lateness and lack of updates this ummer and many future ones to come! Dx**


	10. Suicidal Thoughts

He gritted his teeth, clenching his jaw as he heard about Niall's birthday for the 39th time that day. It was so annoying when every girl in your class loved a stupid boy band for their looks and accents and had to talk about them all the time. They had even formed little fangirling groups. Alfred sat in his first period, AP Human Geography, at the front of the class. They had been assigned their seats, and his desk was at the front surrounded by people who didn't even try to talk to him. He had missed out on the opportunity to make friends before they all started grouping together the first week of school because of this issue.

So far, high school had had its good points but also the bad. He loved being able to wear shorts and flip-flops to school. It was _Florida _after all. It was awesome going to a non-fundamental school! There were people with color in their hair and there were vending machines positioned everywhere around the school. It was a little harder to eat healthy with such a weird lunch system but who could complain when you got to eat French fries and drink Sprite all day? The newfound freedoms of Alfred's high school were so amazing. He had so many opportunities to use his phone even _during_ class and everyone was listening to their iPods as they walked from class to class. Maybe he should bring his one day.

The American was so used to rule after rule after rule and overpowering expectations that this change could be viewed as...well, kinda nice. But then again, there were just some things he couldn't let go. Like the fact that his stupid AP class was giving him too much homework, and not because it was AP either. And then his 2nd period that was taught by the same teacher was supposed to be a study hall but the teacher used it as an excuse to give them _more _work. So annoying...

On top of the homework, Alfred had no friends. None. He had somehow developed his brother, Matthew's, personality so he had a very hard time making friends. No one even liked what he liked or cared about others. They were all way too mainstream! But not having any friends hurt a lot, and no matter how hard he tried, it was always the same. It happened every year.

Being too absorbed into his thoughts while staring at the 87% B he got on a test, Alfred had failed to notice Arthur turning in his seat to look at him, finishing his conversation with the three girls adjacent to them.

"You got a B on _that_ easy test?"

"Yeah, Arthur, I did. G-T-F-O!"

"...do I want to know what that means?"

"I just told you to go away all bad ass-y."

"Nice."

Arthur continued to stare at the younger blonde. He was only younger by a few months but still. Alfred was slumped in his chair looking at the stapled papers, refusing to look at him. He had held back on their deal but he wasn't willing to wait much longer...although it was pretty fun to watch Alfred wonder when he'd do something. He was always trembling while near him or ignoring him as much as possible. Arthur had been nice and gave Alfred a chance to get used to high school before taking anything further. But it had already been two weeks since the deal was decided. It was time for a little fun.

Arthur reached for Alfred and petted his forehead, causing the American to swivel his head around and stare blankly at him. It was obvious what was going on in his mind: _WTF ARE YOU DOING? !_

"Are you okay, Alfred? You seem tired." He continued to rub the soft skin between his eyes and hairline.

"Um, yeah. But are _you_ okay, _Arthur_?" Alfred made sure that his hints were stretched out enough. Why the heck was he being so weird?

Arthur chuckled and placed his hand back on his desk. He watched as Alfred huffed and turned once again to stare at his desk but this time his face was a complete emotionless surface. It almost seemed like Arthur could drop a pebble onto his cheek and see spherical ripples explode from where the small object landed, like a pond, yet come back together unchanging until the next pebble was dropped. The American's eyes were glassy and showed no feeling at all. He could have been dead and he would have believed it...but why was the usually overexcited blonde this expressionless?

* * *

Alfred curled his fingers into Nevada, his hands turning into fists and cruelly crumbling the state in his palm. Alfred didn't want to yell, kick, or scream. He didn't want to write it out, what he was feeling. The closest object to him as he carelessly sat on the edge of his bed was his USA blanket, so the world power got Alfred's beatings as he incarcerated his frustrations.

The world could end and he would welcome it at this point. It would at least save him the trouble of waiting decades and decades to die. He was dismayed with his life. With the divorce that left violent imprints on the shattered remnants of his poorly made heart. With the jealousy and sadness that came with being forced to watch someone better than him be better at everything every single day. With how no one tried to befriend him or accept his attempts to make friends, how they cared for only themselves and never took other's problems seriously. Every year he was overcome with the sorrow of being neglected by his peers. _Every year. EVERY. __**YEAR.**_

The anger and disgust with this hateful world poured down his body and engulfed his once sober mind. Why did no one ask _him _about himself? Why was it always Alfred that had to start a conversation or listen to everyone's problems? Why was it that _his_ parents divorced? How come people always passed him by and never cared to give him a second glance? Who really cared about him? Was _one_ true friend in at least one of his classes a godforsaken gift?

It was the small drip from his eye, to his cheek, to his hand that startled him. The blonde touched a finger to the small wet spot on the back of his hand as if to test to see if it was real. The same finger traveled to his right eye, touching the rim of denied tears resting before the trip down to his palm like the first. He...he was crying. Crying? Why would he possibly be crying now? It was too late for tears. The world would not look upon him _now_ because of shameful droplets tumbling down his face. All Alfred wanted was to be noticed. For people to enjoy his company and actually _choose _to sit with him. To choose him to partner with. To wonder why he had missed a day of school or to mention if he did something different to his appearance. Just some type of recognition. But that would not happen anytime soon. Alfred's mind was decided.

With a gradual pace, the American slipped something out of his jacket pocket and into the open air. His thumb caressed the object's side before he flicked it and its full terror was unleashed.

A pocket knife.

Unlike the many movies he'd seen, there was no dramatic symphony drumming in his ears or a worried look from a friend passed his way. It was just him. It was his turn to shine.

...Would anyone care? Would people take time to listen to his story? What story _did _he have? Will Gilbert try to see him before he was buried or burned into ashes? ...Will Arthur go home?

Alfred's mind flashed thoughts like a strobe light but once his eyes finally reached the tip of the knife's sharp edge, it went blank at once. He didn't know what it felt like to die and had never been curious to find out. A tremble overtook his body and a scared gasp threatened to creep from his throat but he held it in. Heroes weren't scared. A hero had the courage to do something like this.

Alfred reached for the door and locked it to the best of his abilities with his unsteady hand. Luckily it was close enough to his bed that he didn't have to abandon his spot and the knife. It was now or never; he would never have this courage again. The knife glinted in his vision like it had the audacity to casually smirk. Like it was saying, _"Ha, I knew you would never go through with it. You always fail."_

His face contorted into rage. The last intact shard of his heart had been thoroughly stomped on and shoved into the dirt. The pieces were smaller than the atoms forming the broken segments of his heart. They could no longer be found, not in the dirt that would soon turn red from what his mind was telling him to do.

Where was he supposed to cut? His wrist? Well...his neck would make things much quicker in the end. Hopefully the pain would mercifully cease and he would die quickly.

Knife to his throat, breath stinging his lungs with every shivering gasp as he realized what he was about to do, he sliced the knife through everything in its path.

_He heard a cry. And that was it._

**Sorry for making Alfred so OOC. He's supposed to share my life and...well...I'm Canada. No Hetalia joke intended. Lately I've been feeling like this although I didn't take the time to actually write out everything I've been feeling. I still have to do my homework right now so I'm trying to finish this chapter quickly. Sorry I haven't updated any of my stories in so long. I'm busy. I also can promise you I won't do what Alfred did since I don't have the courage to do that. This story also isn't over yet. The ending was a little too unclear, you know? Did Alfred die? ...Did he live? Who knows, I could be insinuating that he comes back to earth as something inhuman. Or I'm just trying to trick you into thinking that so that no one can guess this plot so easily.**


	11. Love is a Sin

The knife fell from his open palm to the smooth wood flooring of his room. It tumbled through the air as it hit the ground with a sharp clash that split the atmosphere and rang in the ears of all who could hear it. Alfred's eyes were wide and unmoving, his body unwilling to relax; his mind blank of all thoughts.

"_WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DID YOU JUST DO? !" _Arthur screamed as he slammed the door and jumped to the American's side. He flew into Alfred's vision and glared at him as if he was angry that he didn't get an invitation to his killing.

The Brit kicked the knife as far away from Alfred as possible while thoroughly inspecting his neck for any damage. Thankfully his cry of horror from seeing Alfred about to kill himself had stopped the boy's hand from plunging the knife any further to his neck than an inch away before he froze and dropped it.

The lack of response from Alfred was louder than Alfred's last screams would have been.

"Git, say something! Why were you trying to take your life?" _Anything to get him to speak._

"...why did you stop me?"

This brought a sudden stillness to Arthur's movements. What...how could he say that? The American left the question unanswered as he tested Arthur again.

"How did you even get in?" he whispered. He almost didn't even expect a reply but the slightly older blonde gave him his answer.

"The door wasn't fully locked. It was easy to open it. And then I saw...I saw what you were about to do-"

"_And I would have done it if you had just left me alone!_"

He wished desperately for Arthur to vanish and the knife to be back in his willing palm. He wished the time would fly back so that he could properly lock the door. Why hadn't he taken more time into preparing for this instead of just closing the door with his shaky hand?

Arthur saw through Alfred's gaze into his thoughts. Hands clasped shoulders as Alfred's body was thrust forward, closer into Arthur's personal space for emphasis on his next words.

"I will not allow it. You will not kill yourself, ever. I won't let you!"

The smack to his face surprised even Alfred as he looked at Arthur's stunned expression still red on his cheek where he had slapped him.

"I don't have to ask _you_ what I can and can't do! I'm my own person! Don't you dare tell me what to do!"

In Arthur's eyes, the younger blonde's shirt hazed into a shade of blue. The color of sadness, remorse, tears...separation. Alfred's vision blurred with the tears rimming his eyes, causing Arthur's clothing to blend into a fine red.

He hated that color.

"What does it even matter? No one will care if I just die right here and now. I'm sick of my life and all of the shit that happens to me. I have no true friends; my parents divorced and left me mentally scarred. No one knows how much this divorce affected me! _I can't even say that word without apologizing to God for sinning and saying it!_" Alfred cried. His tears were flowing freely now. Arthur couldn't figure out what Alfred was talking about. "What word?"

"...Love."

The American's eyes said it all. In his mind he was repenting his sin of saying that ugly word.

_Sorry God, sorry God, sorry God, sorry God._

"What are you thinking right now?"

Alfred hesitated. He had never told anyone this before. "I have to apologize to God at least four times whenever I read, hear, or say anything about love. I just have to. I can't...I can't survive if I don't."

_Sorry God, sorry God, sorry God, sorry God._

"How long has this been going on?"

"I-it started around the time of the divorce I guess. But it only intensified as time went on." Alfred mumbled.

"Why is love such a sin?"

"I'm not allowed to love."

Arthur was taken aback. Not allowed to love. Who could possibly make themselves go through that?

"You're allowed to love, Alfred!"

"Not anymore."

"Does this happen a lot, you apologizing to God I mean?"

"Yes. Almost everything I do I have to apologize. I just feel...I don't know. I just don't feel right if I don't and it's gotten to the point where I'm surprised I don't apologize for breathing."

"People love you, Alfred! _I_ _love you_. Please don't put yourself through this."

"You don't love me. It's impossible to love someone. They'll just leave you in the end anyways. Even if they stick by you their entire life; nothing beautiful doesn't wither away."

"_I do love you, Alfred! And I'll make you accept that!_"

His lips crashed into the other's. He saw the pink blush dusting Alfred's face. He saw his hesitance and resistance. Arthur pushed closer determined to show Alfred just how much he really loved him. Not a fake love. He didn't care if their relationship was "fake". He would make it real.

The two parted for air. Alfred looked astonished that he had actually kissed him. Yes, Arthur had kissed him before but the other times had felt almost like mistakes. This time...this time the kiss had reached his heart. He felt a shard of the battered, demolished heart lift from the ground and piece back together. It was just a sliver. Only a tiny part of his innocence he once had.

But it was still there.

"You will learn to love again, whether I teach you the easy way or the hard way. I will beat it into your mind how to love. You are able to care for another, dammit! I won't let you waste your life away alone! People do care about you! I've only known you for such a small amount of time yet I love you! I do." A tear escaped its confinements. "...I do."

Arthur wrapped his arms around the trembling American sitting before him. Alfred's sobs were harder now. Everything Arthur said was a lie, it had to be. There was just no way someone could love _him_. A fat, ugly, broken person. If his own parents couldn't show their "love" for him properly then how could Arthur?

"I will teach you how to love again, Alfred...and I will make you say you love me without apologizing to God."

**Sorry it took me so long to write this. Busy and I'm so tired right now. Hopefully I didn't go too off track. I wanted to get through the important details of his attempted suicide and address Alfred's love issue. Besides the fact that Alfred actually **_**did**_** try to kill himself, these are my problems too. I'm apologizing to God so much right now for writing that word so many times in this chapter, lol. There's also other things Alfred and I have to apologize to God for that aren't really "sins" but we're both just that OCD or something. I wish I had someone like Arthur to help me through this problem though. Alfred's so lucky.**


	12. Who Knew the North Could Feel So Good?

Alfred was hardly ever alone after that. Arthur made sure of it. Whether he was doing homework on his bed, walking in the halls, or just sitting outside in the heat of Florida during the "fall" (Yeah, it was still hot as in summer hot during the fall in Florida), Arthur was always there. Sometimes it felt kind of annoying to not be left out of his sight but still...

He also noticed how tense Arthur got when Alfred was around sharp things. It was hilarious watching the Brit while he had been slicing an apple the other day. Every crunch brought a jump from the older blonde who immediately assumed Alfred had cut off his fingers. He had to admit, he did feel a little bit better after that night. He no longer felt the need to kill himself. He wasn't on the verge of exploding from happiness but he certainly wasn't wrestling the knife back from Arthur's grip who had insisted on cutting the apple for him. Everything just seemed...okay.

It was also kind of nice to see someone care enough to make sure he was safe like that.

Things had also started to get better at school. He had a friend here and there. Not that many but enough to survive on. He hung out with two guys, Tino and Antonio, during break every day. They shared his interests quite a bit actually. First through fifth period Alfred stuck to this slightly nerdy yet mainly preppy girl, Elizabeta. It was hard to relate to her most of the time but at least she was someone to talk to and she was pretty nice anyways (though her love for One Direction wasn't much of a shared characteristic). Lastly, he had a guy named Heracles in his 6th period Drama class. He was nice. Kind of quiet and insanely adored cats but enjoyed anime like Alfred. He actually looked forward to talking to Heracles by the end of break.

Today was no exception either. Alfred sat down in his usual chair. He felt the desk behind him flinch slightly and heard the thud that came with the dropping of a heavy backpack to the floor. When he turned around he gladly saw that Heracles was right behind him with a soft smile, just as expected.

"Can you believe it? We have to do our pantomimes today. I'm excited to finally get it over with but I wish we didn't have to do them in the first place." Alfred decided to start the conversation today. There was usually a minute or two before the teacher came into consideration by the class.

"She'll probably give us an extra day again. How long has this been delayed? Two weeks now?" Heracles had a soft, patient tone to his voice. It was hard for Alfred _not_ to notice. He also had a slight accent that sounded almost British. When he'd been asked about it, the cat lover simply explained how his ear had been injured when he was younger to the point where hearing was still an ability but he couldn't hear things other people heard them apparently. To Heracles, he had a perfect American accent, even when his peers commented on how foreign he sounded.

"True. We'll see." Alfred responded with a silent bet.

"Sit your asses down and pay attention. Didn't you hear the bell? Anyways, I decided that since you all didn't finish your papers on pages 68 and 69 in the theater books that we'd wait for our block schedule on Wednesday to do our pantomimes instead." One of the best parts about drama had to be the teacher. The way she would make fun of students or make comments in a humorous way was always a sight to enjoy.

Before Alfred turned back around to the front, Heracles gave him a knowing look. Bets just weren't Alfred's specialty.

* * *

When he finally got home that day from school, the bus ride, _and _the walk home with Arthur, the American just wanted to curl into his USA blanket and sleep. Too bad he had so much homework and wasn't it a pity that his procrastination kept him from it.

Alfred thrust open the door to his room with one hand and fell onto his bed, letting his backpack fall of his sweating back that had taken the worst under the giant bag and the merciless sun. Crawling onto the bed, he took the USA to his chest and just laid there snuggled up against it. He got into the perfect sleeping position; on his right side with half his face shoved into the blanket while the other half protruded from the flowing heap of a country.

He had been right there, sleep directly upon his eyes, when he felt something- no, some_one_ crawl on top of him. He forced his eyes open to see Arthur staring back at him.

"What are you doing?" there was a faint pink on Alfred's cheeks.

"...I told you I would make you love me back." Arthur said with a serious expression.

"I just got back from the abyss called depression. I really don't want to play these games now Arthur."

"This isn't a game. I'll at least show you today a little bit of my love."

Alfred rolled his eyes. Arthur would never do anything. There was no way he'd have the audacity to even-

"H-hey! What're you...?" Arthur was managing to somehow lift part of Alfred's shirt up from his body while the American continued to snuggle against the soft map of his homeland.

"I just told you. I won't do anything extreme today, lad. But I want you to know how much you're really worth to me."

"This is really sudden you know!"

"Yes, it is! But if I don't do something now then you'll think all I said that night was just to coax you into forgetting about the knife a meter away!"

Before Alfred had the chance to say more, he was flung onto his back with the blanket forgotten. He was about to struggle when Arthur slid his hand over Alfred's smooth chest, startling the American. Again he tried to speak up, to smack his hand away, but Arthur's hand travelled all the way up to his nipple, rubbing circles around the pink flesh.

It tickled _so _much, but Alfred dared not make a single sound. The last thing he needed was for Arthur to know just how ticklish he was. It would help him win too many arguments and probably end up as his favorite past time hobby. No _freaking_ _**way**_.

With thoughts of this on his mind, Alfred didn't notice the other hand that snaked its way across his waist. He shivered when it glided up his side. That, too, was a very..._sensitive_ area. So sensitive he had accidently let a noise escape his mouth, sadly. To the American, it sounded like a loud, giggling fit which was not good when it came to making sure he seemed completely un-ticklish. To the Brit, it sounded like a desperate whimper.

Finally giving Alfred "what he wants", Arthur stopped his left hand from circling Alfred's nipple. Instead choosing to let his fingers have their wish as they pinched the soft nub. Well, it couldn't really be called soft anymore. Not with all of the twirls and squeezes from Arthur's surprisingly talented hand.

"Ah, w-what are-?" Alfred couldn't get the sentence out. It was one simple act yet it all felt like too much to someone who had had no sexual experience at all.

"I told you I would start out with something small. I'll make you feel good as I gradually make my way down south over the next few times we share these..._moments_ together."

It really did feel good. Alfred couldn't deny it. Especially when the hand that had been dancing on his waist flew to his right nipple, playing with that one as well. Alfred didn't know what to do with his hands, his body, or his face that had been blushing madly for quite some time now.

"What's the matter, love?" Arthur thickened his accent. No matter how much Alfred made humorous remarks on his dialect or denied any fondness towards it, he knew how much it turned Alfred on. And somewhere deep in those bits of ashes the American called a heart, he knew it too.

Alfred's face grew redder. He didn't understand what was going on around him or inside his head.

"How does it feel, Alfred?"

The younger blonde refused to answer as he bit his lip to prevent any noises from escaping his mouth.

"You better tell me, lad. Or I might have to extend this little 'moment' of ours and go ahead and start some wanking."

If Alfred knew the definition of any British slang word, he knew that one. And no matter how this felt, he was _not _ready for someone else's hand to be touching him there.

"I-it...nn...f-feels good..." Alfred said between small gasps for air. He felt something twitch a little in his...lower regions when Arthur started toying faster with his nipples.

"Are you sure? It's hard for me to be able to tell just from a red face and hard nipples." Arthur smirked.

Alfred glared back at him but when one hand drew dangerously close to his sensitive neck, he gave in.

"It feels so good! A j-jolly good show!" Alfred enjoyed tormenting the Brit with his purposely inaccurate version of his accent. Arthur had to say that his attempt was certainly not splendid at all.

He let go of the two nubs and left Alfred panting on his bed. He glanced to Alfred's body one last time but forced himself to wait. He couldn't take him in one go. How was that supposed to show him his love?

"You can expect more of this soon. Not tomorrow. Maybe not even two weeks from now. But I _will_ show you my love. And you won't be able to bloody help but say 'I love you'."

He didn't see Alfred freeze with a terrified expression at his last few words before he walked out the door. It wasn't what was yet to come that kept him silent, it was the words he wanted from Alfred that scared him the most.

**Woah...I actually wrote this. There were so many moments in this chapter where I would facepalm myself and say "Am I really going to write that?" and then my mind would say "YES," and this is what came from my sexy imagination. I shall **_**try **_**to write what many people have been wanting from me (*cough*lemons*cough*) but I don't exactly know how well that'll turn out. And I was going to write something about Heracles (Greece) after this little sexy scene but figured I should save it for the next chapter. All I'll say is that those who haven't cried yet while reading this (though I don't know who would) will probably end up crying after I write what happens to him. And RRRRGH, WHY MUST I CARE FOR ENGLAND'S CHARACTER SO MUCH?! No, I do not **_**like **_**him. He's just the wallpaper for my computer, phone, and on this little phone charm I bought. I also thank all the reviewers who motivated me to actually post something before the end of this month xD**


	13. Death is a Gift

It was Tuesday night. One of those days where you're glad it wasn't Monday but still dreading how early it was in the week. The promise of homework didn't help the American too much either, nor did his procrastination which lead to worry about not finishing it and then bad grades and blah blah blah. Alfred's mind had been a mess lately of not only Arthur but the rest of his life too. Why had he been chosen to have the burden of procrastination carried upon him as a child? !

He was lying on his blanket that was sprawled all over the bed when his phone rang. To be honest, the first thing that came to his mind was that his father was calling him. No one usually called him unless it was one of his parents to yell at him which, even after meeting Arthur, still scared him enough it made him think he was going to die. But he decided to do what a brave man should of, a hero to say the least.

Picking up the device with a small clink of his Captain America cell phone charm, his eyes wandered over the screen lighting up with not his father's name but Heracles instead. That...was odd. Yeah, they had texted back and forth a few times, Heracles certainly had his number, but they had never actually _talked_ over the phone. Heracles also didn't seem like the type to like phone conversations either.

By the second ring Alfred had picked up the older phone, pressed the green button, and put it up to his ear with a mildly concerned "Hello?"

"Hey, Alfred..."

"Hey, Heracles." Kind of a weird way of starting this random conversation...

"Did you...did you hear about the kid who got hit by a car yesterday?" Heracles sounded a little more breathy than usual.

"Um, no actually." It must have been one of Heracles' friends. He felt bad for the guy.

"Well that person..."

Silence.

Alfred waited for a response, not wanting to rush him for an answer. If his friend had died it would have been a hard blow to Heracles' state of well-being. Instead he chose to sit up on his bed and wait patiently. And his patience was rewarded.

"That person was me."

"...what?"

"I said I was hit by a car. Yesterday, on the sidewalk outside the school."

"I don't..." It took Alfred a second to process this but his mind wasn't as slow as everyone seemed to think. "_OH MY GOD! _Are you okay? !"

"Erm, yeah. I've got...I have a broken arm," -slight gasps of air could be heard every few seconds, being amplified by the cell phone- "my leg's broken, m-my...my collarbone, and my pelvis."

Alfred almost dropped the phone. He'd only known this guy for what? Almost two months? And he gets hit by a car! _Heracles_ of all people! Hit by a car! The idea of such a nice and quiet guy being chosen out of billions by God to be flung through a windshield and broken into tiny pieces was so insane it was almost funny. In a sickening torturous way by all means.

"I...I'm so sorry Heracles. I promise I'll visit you. What hospital and room number?"

"Oceanfront...room 558. Y-you don't have to come. And it's...not your fault." The oxygen was fighting Heracles' lungs on the other line. It was obvious he was hurt, even when just hearing his voice. Seeing him would be a whole 'nother deal.

"I will come. And I don't care if this isn't my fault. You didn't deserve this."

"Thanks..."

Alfred waited for the tears. When they didn't come, he wasn't surprised. He wasn't even sad. It just meant that one shard of his heart that had been repaired by Arthur had already broken again.

Had he honestly thought that change was in his pathetic, _worthless_ grasp? His hand didn't even have the strength to stretch for those desires.

God chose Alfred as his sufferer, and that was his past, present, and future. _His soul._

And all who met his glance felt the wrath of God as well.

* * *

He spent his week like normal. Arthur was shunned for reasons unknown to the Brit. Arthur certainly hadn't done anything, had he? He may have touched Alfred a little but...but Alfred knew why. It was obvious. Even if Alfred had resulted to listening to his iPod throughout the seven periods of the day instead of engaging in conversation, he didn't hate him. There was no way.

Alfred didn't even notice Arthur's concerns. Listening to _The Midnight Beast_ was a better way of leaving the present than choosing to talk to the older blonde. He was in the middle of TMB's "_Pizza in Ibiza_" when the earphones were ripped from their small caverns in his head with a fast yank. The menacing glare couldn't be matched by anyone as Alfred swung to meet the eyes of Arthur sitting in their 3rd period class.

"What the hell do you want? !" _Sorry God, sorry God, sorry God, sorry God._

Arthur ignored his malice. "Talk to me."

"Just shut up, okay? I'm over you playing me and I'm restless enough as it is with my friend in the hospital!"

_Alfred's friend...was in the hospital._

"You-"

"Go talk to your stupid British-obsessed fangirls," Alfred let himself leave this ugly world and follow the eighth notes to the next song on shuffle.

* * *

_He couldn't be too bad. Maybe a little roughed up but only a few scratches, right?_

The doors lining the hallway all looked the same. Alfred kept moving forward towards where he hoped Heracles' room was supposed to be. He got to the end of the hall it was a dead end. When he looked to his right, he found the number he had been looking for. Room 558.

A gentle knock and then he was inside the small room smelling of medicines and that infamous hospital food left uneaten on the tray. Heartbreak coated the room in a hopeless aura. Stuffed animals, plants, flowers, and cheap toys lined the window. There was an open chair next to the bed and...the bed. Heracles, he was there.

Alfred cringed. The sight was horrendous. His friend was sleeping in an awkward angle. There was road burn on his forehead, his right arm in a twisted cast, stitches and what looked like glue on the side of his nose, his hair a mess, messier than he'd ever seen it. He was glad the blanket was covering the rest.

There was a paper taped to the side of the metal bars connected to the bed. The lines boasted of the rest of his invisible injuries.

_Road burn on forehead and along right side of patient's body from waist to shoulder, stitches along left side of patient from hip to shoulder, broken leg, broken ankle, detached side of nose, closed-in head injury, broken arm, front and back of pelvis in pieces, not eating._

And then in pride the paper stated what had been done to improve his friend's well-being.

_Two rods implanted in right leg and arm, nose glued back onto face, stitches on left side._

Tears.

There was no hope in that tiny room on the fifth floor that day. There was no hope in that room any day. There had been no hope for Heracles since he had been hit at 50 miles per hour and crunched into the windshield for 40 more feet. The sneakers filled with blood scattered on the street and a neighboring lawn told no happy story. His friend's twin brother screaming for him not to die had not called for a response from God. The lady who had almost killed him and answered questions from the police through her window had no sympathy for the child laying half dead in his twin brother's arms.

Alfred left the hand drawn picture, elephant stuffed animal, fuzzy socks, and "Get Well!" balloon on the chair adjacent to the bed. He ran out of the room, through the hall, skipped the elevator going for the stairs instead, and out the doors of the hospital.

There were rivulets of tears gleaming on his face. Alfred pulled out his phone from his right pocket wanting to talk to somebody, _anybody_, when he saw the small icon signaling he had a new text message.

_**New Message**_

_**Arthur Kirkland, 11:27 am**_

'_**Do you have a minute? Meet at Panera's?'**_

Alfred clicked the 'reply' button.

_**Reply**_

_**To: Arthur Kirkland, 12:34 pm**_

"_**fcking hel no. I dont give a dam"**_

He knew he didn't use correct spelling or grammar. He honestly didn't give a damn. Not now. He threw his phone into his jacket's pocket and kept walking. What he was walking from and what he was walking to, he didn't know.

He only wished God had chosen him instead of Heracles.

* * *

**Sad chapter is sad but true. This really did happen to my friend, as you may have already guessed that all the characters mentioned in this story are based off of people I know in real life with the given exception of Arthur. I would explain more of what happened to Heracles but it didn't really fit. Sorry I haven't been posting. I'm really busy. I finished this instead of my homework. The ending just kind of happened. Anyone have any favorite America pairings except for the countries already used? (England, Prussia, Russia, Canada, France, Greece, etc.) I'll probably have to use one of the characters I've already used...stupid me for writing on a whim.**


	14. To Be Alone Is A Given

Alfred sat in his room, his blanket wrapped around him in a loose hold from behind. It was almost midnight yet he still refused to eat dinner. Starving himself seemed like an efficient way to lose weight. Let's face it. He was so fat; His stomach, thighs, arms- oh god, his arms. In pictures his arms were elephantine and looked disproportional to his body. He just didn't want to eat. Even if it didn't help him lose weight, it at least felt that way.

Arthur was out of sight. Of course. He had other things to do anyways. Who wouldn't, right? It's not like the Brit didn't have friends besides Alfred and it's not as if Alfred needed anybody beside him right now. Alfred didn't need anybody at all period.

The blonde probably should have been working on his homework. He had been overly stressed lately with all of the extra work he'd been getting. He- nn...that's strange. How could he feel hungry? He was fat. Disgusting. Why would _he_ of all people be hungry? Alfred wanted to punch his stomach, punch himself, for being so fat that he needed food after only going without for 8 or 9 hours.

In the past few months...things had gone up hill and downhill. So many things had happened to him. Too much for the American to remember or honestly want to recall. Alfred curled further into his blanket, Alaska patting his shoulder in a soothing gesture. Heracles was getting better at least. He hadn't died thankfully, though Alfred did feel a little guilty for not seeing him since that one time in the hospital. They had texted back and forth a couple times over the past few months but that was it.

It was weird having someone you had only just met be hit by a car. It was almost as if you were expected to go visit them, but then what do you do after that? You barely knew them. And it's even more unsettling when they feel as if you two are greater friends than you feel yourself. Alfred always managed to befriend the people with little friends of their own.

For the past few months...there were some happier times for him. He couldn't think of anything at the moment but maybe if he had a little time he could think of something. All he could picture in his mind right now were the amount of times he had been in despair. Thankfully today, as with many days now, he was unfeeling. He didn't care that no one cared about him. Go ahead Arthur, go off to wherever you are and have a _blast_. Like Alfred gave a shit.

It was nice coming back from school after being ignored and disliked for 8 hours to be able to lie on his bed for the rest of the night, only coming out for food if he actually ate that night. One week he had gone two nights in a row with no dinner with a small breakfast and lunch consisting of a few bites of food here and there. He was pretty proud.

At one point...Arthur had actually been a really important person in Alfred's life. They had become really good friends to the point of Alfred even telling him some things he had kept to himself for years. Things he had never told anyone about his life. Things he had never spoken of when it came to his feelings. But lately, Alfred had been slipping. Slipping lower and lower into the grayish fog in his mind. The place where his secrets were kept and that he was supposed to stay away from.

It was the place he had been that night he almost died.

Thankfully his mind was monotone at the moment. He didn't feel sadness, hatred, happiness, whatever. The American glared at the wall as he felt the pain of hunger again. Grabbing the ends of his blanket, he thrust it over his head and tried pulling it apart. Ripping it in half seemed like a good way to show his inner self. So sorry Colorado and Kansas, looks like you two will be missing each other!

The American tried to rip the fabric, his knuckles clenching to the point of being white from the pressure. The veins on his hands were easily visible, but no matter how hard he pulled, the fabric stayed as one single being. Alfred pulled harder. Why couldn't this stupid fricking thing just rip in half?!

A tear slipped down his cheek.

Whatever. It was stupid to rip it in half for no reason. All of his feelings were stupid anyways. No one even cared.

"Are you crying?"

It was a simple sentence, but Alfred froze with his back to the door. The voice smooth as dark, melted chocolate entered the room again.

"Alfred."

Not even a whole sentence but it was enough to make the American come back to reality.

"What do you want, Arthur?"

He heard a bag placed on the bed. Looking slightly over his shoulder he could see it was from Starbucks.

"You want some of this cake I bought? I only bought a slice but why not share it." Arthur offered the piece to Alfred, gliding the cake through the air in front of his face. Alfred clenched his fists trying not to reach out and take this chance to satisfy his dying stomach.

"I'm not hungry, Arthur." Alfred said in a monotone voice. It perfectly matched his feelings right now.

His body betrayed him, crying out in starvation. '_Just a bite, I just need something, _anything_, to rid me of this pain! Please!' _Alfred's body screamed at him. His mind refused.

"You're hungry. Here, take the whole thing." Arthur reached in the bag for one of the plastic forks he'd gotten with his purchase. Napkins were spilling from the cavernous insides of the bag and Alfred could picture the scene even with his back to the Brit with all of the rustling.

"No. I said I'm not hungry."

The rustling ceased. Arthur's eyes squinted at Alfred's back. There was something up.

"Alfred, you don't think I've noticed anything? I've noticed how less enthusiastic you've gotten about food. What's the matter, lad?"

"I'm not hungry."

There was silence for a good five seconds before Arthur said "Now come on, git. You need to eat. When was the last time you've eaten?"

"Right before you got home."

"Now that isn't true. Why would your stomach be rumbling then?"

Alfred didn't respond.

"Bloody hell, Alfred. Just eat this piece of cake!" Arthur shoved the cake next to Alfred who simply didn't move.

"Alfred..."

"Just leave me alone dammit. I'm not up for this shit. Go back to your friends."

"What's the matter with you lately, Alfred? I can't help but notice all of the times you suddenly lose the smile on your face, deny your hunger, or stop talking. Please, just tell me already!"

"Nothing's wrong."

"God dammit, Alfred. Fine. I've done all I could. You had your chance, I'm leaving." Arthur got up from his spot and out of spite, took the slice of cake and bag of various snacks with him, leaving the room with the slam of a door.

"You haven't done anything," was Alfred's response to the empty room.

Arthur hadn't done anything for him. He had tried to help him by offering him a piece of cake and occasionally asking if he was alright, followed by forgetting Alfred was even acting differently in the first place.

"Fuck it all!" Alfred screamed as his sides burst with hunger.

_Sorry God, sorry God, sorry God, sorry God, sorry God, sorry God, sorry God, sorry God._

"_JUST SHUT UP!"_ Alfred took the closest thing to him, his beat up used Human Geography text book, and flung it across the room, letting it hit his bookshelf and watched as all of his comics fell to the floor.

_I'm sorry God for living! Please forgive me!_

He was fed up with it. Why couldn't his mind just shut down and stop thinking? Why couldn't he just be dead? Like hell he was going to share his feelings with anyone anymore. He had tried to share them with Arthur who had responded with not kind words but his own logic. Telling him to stop feeling that way, it was ridiculous. How could he think something as idiotic as that?

Those were feelings Alfred had kept to himself for a long time and he now realized that he really couldn't trust anyone with them.

Alfred got up from his spot, leaving the warmth of the states as he searched his room looking for something...something long and sharp...a pair of scissors even. He came back to the center of his room empty handed. Of course Arthur had taken away all of that stuff long ago when he had tried to commit suicide.

Cutting was on his mind. He kept hearing of people cutting. He couldn't help but think that it helped them deal with their thoughts. Maybe it would make him feel better? Just a simple slice of his wrists. The skin bit by a sharp blade, a miniscule stream of blood dotting the cut and healing into a few scars.

Maybe people would care then.

**Sorry, I couldn't think of anything for this chapter so I just wrote about what's happening at this moment. I'm not eating tonight but I'm not hungry to that degree at the moment. I will be before I finally sleep around 2 or 5 am and when I wake up. Sorry I haven't updated! I don't know if anyone still reads this or not but I've been away from writing fanfiction at all for a while. I'm sorry. I'll try to write more. A lot has happened these past few months. And the ending of this...is a little true. I mean, who doesn't think about that right? But I don't have anything sharp in my room anyways. I also have experienced enough unplanned physical pain this week so I'm good for right now. Thanks for reading.**


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